


No One To Nothing

by symbioticSimplicity



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 14 billion year old virgin, Aka Michael thinks too much, Basically I can't stand waiting for the rest of season five so I wrote it myself, Celestial bad parenting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, God is doing his best, Hurt/Comfort, Michael gets knocked down a peg, Ocs for plot reasons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Season/Series 05, Slow Burn, Speculation, Speculative, Supernatural Shenanigans, While Lucifer doesnt think at all, but what else is new, i love that tag but also it HURTS, michael is an asshole, no beta we die like uriel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symbioticSimplicity/pseuds/symbioticSimplicity
Summary: My take on Season 5b because I literally cannot think about anything else.With God's judgement passed, Michael and Lucifer now have to learn how to coexist with each other again. In which Chloe Decker deals with far too many Celestial man babies, Ella slowly recovers from her trauma with help from the least likely of sources, Linda makes a convincing case for sainthood, and Amenadiel just wants his family to get along.Taking place the moment Season 5a ends. Please. Someone help me.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Ella Lopez/Michael, Eve/Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 94
Kudos: 220





	1. Punishment Handed Down From on High

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this show has eaten me alive and I'm not even that mad. Enjoy the fruits of my inescapable obsession.

A sea rose up to greet Lucifer’s ears. It was the red sea, full of death and decay and vicious vengeance all hissing through his ears like so many snakes. Set to the nauseating backdrop of desperation and longing so intense he felt almost dizzy with the surge of so many competing emotions all rushing at once for the forefront of his attention.

It had been so long since he’d seen his Father. So long in fact he’d half expected he might never again. The Old Man was such a bloody hypocrite, the ‘kind and loving’ Almighty bent on refusing to forgive him for the rest of existence. And Lucifer, proud and stubborn, would never make the first apology. So it had been since before time was anything more than Amenadiel being a prat. 

The sight of Him always pulled Lucifer up short, as His grace was nearly too much even for an angel. Much less an angel who had nearly forgotten the true taste of divinity, awash as he was in hellfire. His eyes almost couldn’t take in the luminosity of him, like one grown so used to the darkness that light hurt him. Took his breath away.

But as soon as the air returned to his lungs, so too did the _rage._

“Are you _fucking kidding me?”_ Lucifer breathed, his voice strangled and soft but unmistakably furious.

“Lucifer don’t-” Amenadiel bless him, tried in a warning tone.

 _“No!”_ Lucifer shrieked, his voice full to bursting with hellish pitch that broke unevenly across the bullpen, “I will _not_ stand complacently while this _deadbeat_ casually waltzes in when it’s most convenient to Him!” 

“You think I’m here out of convenience?” His Father’s voice cuts in, not with fury but rather genuine curiosity which if possible only heightens Lucifer’s frenzy.

 _“What else could it be?!”_ He screams, the sound so harsh it hurts to hear, it hurts to _make,_ but he doesn’t stop, “You’ve never given a single _fuck_ before now! About anything, about any of _us._ Not when Mom was romping around, not when Uriel-” He choked on the words, the agony twining itself along with the rage in him until his eyes pricked with tears he _refused_ to shed, “I’ve begged You, pleaded with You, _needed You_ and You never said a damn _word!_ What else could this be but yet another unfathomable whim of Yours?!”

Michael, who had been moments from returning to his Father’s side, felt ice lash up his spine. As much as he hated his twin, and Heaven and Hell _did he hate him,_ he couldn’t ignore his pain. He’d never really been able to as much as he’d told himself otherwise. He felt what Samael felt, and vice versa. If they were around each other too long, his skin would begin to burn and Sam’s otherwise perfect gait would wobble with a bit of a limp. 

It was haunting to realize that he felt many of the same things Michael himself felt at seeing their Father again.

Still, Michael would never have dared to speak a single one of those feelings. It wasn’t his place to question their Father, to defy Him, or blame Him as Samael clearly did. He knew with certainty this would have seen him destroyed.

Which is exactly where speaking so far out of turn should have landed Samael. But then, _Lucifer_ was different, he always had been.

Instead of unmaking him, as he’d nigh been begging for, Father only sighed, a weight settling over his shoulders.

“Samael-”

 _“Don’t_ call me that!” Lucifer snapped, his teeth clicking together, “I am _not_ yours.”

The look of sadness that swept over their Father’s face made Michael nauseous.

 _“Lucifer,”_ God pronounced the name, breathing life into it, giving it meaning and agency and sovereignty, “I’m not here for you.”

The words landed like a physical blow, stunning him momentarily into silence before a manic laugh began to rattle up out of his throat.

“You’re not- of _course not.”_ He cackled, the noise so fractured it was a wonder he didn’t break along with it, “Silly me, what could possibly have come over me!”

Instead of recourse, His gaze slipped from Lucifer over to Michael. Ordinarily having His attention would have made the angel preen. It was all he ever really wanted, and he’d done a great many awful things in service of that desire. It was easily one of the things Lucifer hated most about him.

But that joy was snuffed out by the sternness of His expression.

“You’ve caused quite a lot of trouble in the brief time you’ve been on Earth.” He said, a brow quirked but His expression otherwise static, “If I’m honest I’m surprised, Michael.”

Lucifer scoffed while Michael swallowed hard.

“Father I-”

He waved his hand dismissively, shaking His head.

“I know why you did this Michael, that’s hardly of consequence.”

He felt as though he’d been backhanded. Hardly of consequence? Like his feelings meant absolutely _nothing_ . Which of course, he knew they did. He was never meant to feel, and if he did, he was never supposed to act on it. He _knew_ that, and yet he’d given into it, justifying to himself that one misstep in billions of years of nearly perfect service was owed him. After all it wasn’t as if he were _Lucifer_. This was the failing he’d never quite been able to rid himself of. The chip in an otherwise perfect sword.

As such he bowed his head, biting down hard his tongue to keep silent.

“It is not your place to question the gifts I bestow, or to whom.” God chided him, “Nor was it your place to interfere in a plan you know nothing of.”

Michael bit down harder against the objections bunching up at the back of his tongue, forcing an apology through his teeth instead as much as it physically pained him to do so.

“I’m sorry Father.” 

“No, My son, not yet.” He shook his head, “But you will be.” 

Michael’s heart rate spiked as fear, pure and sharp jolted through him. He commanded his breathing to stay even.

“I will accept whatever punishment you wish of me, Lord Father.” Michael dropped to his knees, not daring to look up to see his Father’s expression.

But before He could speak again, Lucifer’s sharp tone cut in, reminding Michael that he was there at all.

“Well as much as I love a good old flogging, especially when Mikey is the one in the hot seat, I’d be remiss if I let a good bit of rebellion beget punishment, hm?”

Michael blinked in a flurry as expensive suit clad legs came to stand in front of him. He didn’t understand, was Lucifer really-

“You’re going to _defend_ him?” Once again the damn curiosity took the forefront in His voice, “Even though he stole from you something you consider precious? Why?”

“Well firstly, that little farce was never in any danger of working. Even if I didn’t associate with some top notch humans, Mikey’s poor little heart would give out after a week of living my life.” Lucifer scoffed, his bravado nearly hiding the subtle tremor in his voice, “But, much more importantly, You _desire_ to punish him. And nothing, _literally nothing_ , in all of existence would please me more than blue balling You.”

God cocked his head, frowning at his wayward son, who’s manic smile wasn’t nearly wide enough to cover all the fear oozing from him. He was _terrified_ , for the first time Michael had sensed since he’d taken his dear Detective. He was terrified and yet here he still was, standing his ground in front of Michael, protecting him.

“You’ve changed, Samael.” God assessed.

“Starting with the name.” Lucifer snarled back, “Been working on myself. Therapy, who knew, right? The humans are really onto something with that.”

God’s eyebrows raised, but he nodded, seeming to consider the idea.

“So your time on Earth has been good for you?” God asked once again painfully conversationally.

Lucifer frowned, “Have You really not been watching?”

“It’s been eons since I’ve watched over you Lucifer.” And was Michael imagining it, or did their Father sound… regretful?

Lucifer seemed to falter again for a moment, as though stricken but he recovered much faster this time. His hand clenched tight by his side as he once more found his voice.

“Why are you _here_ Father? Because it certainly isn’t just to punish Michael. You could have done that from anywhere, no need to be present.” Lucifer’s rage had simmered into an even keel inferno, the steadily running river of lava Dante had presumed ran through Hell.

The tiniest glimmer of a smile tugged at their Father’s cheek, surprising them all.

“I came as a test.” 

“I knew it!” Amenadiel shouted, joining the conversation for the first time since he’d misguidedly tried to hush _Lucifer_ of all angels.

Their Father’s eyes cut over to him for a moment, and something passed between the two that the twins couldn’t even attempt to keep up with. They’d always been that way and frankly it unnerved the shit out of Lucifer, even before he’d loathed their Creator’s guts.

“A test of _what_ exactly?” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his trust for the old man nigh non-existent.

“Progress.” God replied, cryptic as ever the absolute _ponce,_ “There are few feelings so euphoric as watching a plan work as it’s designed to.”

“So _all_ of this, our lives, this _planet_ and all it’s _people_ are just one big _rube goldberg machine to You?!”_ Lucifer hissed.

“If you’re going to be crass, in a way I suppose that’s not untrue.”

“Unbelievable.” Lucifer scoffed, “No wonder they named an entire complex after You.”

“But Father,” Amenadiel nudged in before Lucifer could begin screaming obscenities at Him, “May I ask why this moment in particular?”

God did smile then and the urge to weep was profound, only tamed due to a celestial make up of their own.

“Him.” God nodded to where, a room away Charlie was cradled in Linda’s arms, “I wanted to see him.”

Amenadiel’s expression lit up before practicality and a long history of mitigating his family’s bullshit caught up to him.

“Father, Charlie is mortal.” He said, as though giving disappointing news he’d rather keep to himself.

“Is he?” God cocked His head, “Hm.”

Amenadiel squinted, trying to make heads or tails of the ominous comment, even as God strode over to the room where His grandchild was. Almost instantly Amenadiel scrambled to follow.

“He’s beautiful.” God said gently, as He took in the sight of the child before Him, “Although I am quite surprised that he looks a good deal like you.”

“You’re… surprised?”

“Mm, there’s never been a nephilim before.” God brushed one of the child’s soft curls, smiling ever so softly as He did, “My bets were on Lucifer to father the first one, honestly.”

“That’s exactly what Remiel said.”

God chuckled at the mention of His blunt daughter, “Of course.”

“You aren’t... angry with me Father?”

“I assume this was a consensual coupling.” He glanced at Amenadiel who nodded fervently, “Why would I be angry?”

“I-” Amenadiel cleared his throat, “I laid with a human. We’re... not supposed to do that.”

“And when did I say that?” He quipped a brow the same as He had earlier at Lucifer.

Amenadiel frowned, searching his memory for the words but coming up empty.

God placed His hand gently on His son’s shoulder, a kind but conspiratorial smile on His lips, “Let me tell you a secret son. I did not create rules to cage you all for eternity, merely to make certain the universe got built before distraction truly set in. You have all done well in serving me, and I’m happy to see you living for yourselves now. Though a few of you may yet need guidance.”

Amenadiel frowned, more questions obviously buzzing away in his head, but God patted his shoulder and returned to the other room where the twins still stood in confusion and apprehension.

“In light of what I’ve seen here, I think I’ve come up with a middle ground.” God declared, regaining the attention of all three of His sons, “Michael.”

The angel snapped to attention, trying to move out from behind his twin with debatable success. Lucifer was standing so close to him he might as well have still been behind him. The ferocity on his features was something to be feared and admired in light of all that he knew it could cost him.

“You put countless humans in jeopardy in order to enact petty revenge against Lucifer, whom has already been punished for his slights quite thoroughly, and you used Amenadiel’s _son_ to scare him so deeply that he froze time on not only the entirety of the mortal plane but also a few beyond, causing Me to take the time to come down here and settle what should have been at worst a tiff between brothers.” God crossed His arms, the picture of reproach, “And for that, you _will_ be punished, regardless of interference.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit, Hell’s flames swirling in them even as Heaven’s feathers rustled at his back, a smile stretched over his lips but it was an ugly, fearful thing. 

“You’re to stay here, on Earth, until you have earned the forgiveness of those you have hurt.” He eyed Lucifer meaningfully, “All of them”

 _“What?!”_ The twins reeled in unison, horror and shock warring across their faces separately but similarly enough that for a moment it was easy to forget the things that made them differ so aggressively.

“Father, wait please-”

“Lucifer,” God began over his budding argument, “Since you’re richer than, well, _Me_ here, you will house and aid your brother as he undertakes this task.”

“I will _not!”_

“You were ready and willing to stand beside him against a far worse punishment than this a moment ago.” God stared him down, “Has that changed?”

Lucifer’s wings beat uncomfortably behind him for a moment before he could bring himself to answer.

“That was different.”

“Oh?” God asked knowingly, His tone reminding Lucifer far too much of Linda for a moment. 

Lucifer licked his teeth but didn’t answer otherwise.

“Regardless, this is not a request.” God said in a tone that brooked no argument, “This is a punishment and I will see it done.”

For once, to the surprise of the entire room, Lucifer didn’t argue. 

God nodded, before turning back to Amenadiel, his expression gentle as it had been before.

“I would like to give your son a gift before I go. Would you mind?”

Amenadiel blinked about forty times in a second, evidently unable to answer in words and settling for nodding. They disappeared back into the room Charlie and Linda were in, giving the twins a moment to breathe. Or whisper scream at each other, since that seemed far more pressing.

“What the fuck was that?!” Michael hissed.

“Like _I_ understand what the hell He’s up to!” Lucifer snitted back.

“Not Dad, _you!”_

“Me? I’ve always been that mouthy brother, nothing new.”

 _“Nothing new?_ You just _stood against Dad._ Over _me.”_

“Oh don’t get you panties in a twist Mikey, I’d stand against him over a toaster strudel.” 

If there was anyone at all in the entirety of the multiverse Lucifer couldn’t deceive, it was Michael. His twin had always seen through him, always heard the words he didn’t say along side those that he did. It had caused a lot of the animosity between them, Lucifer hating the idea of being _known_ nearly as much as Michael hated the burden of _knowing_. Like the way he could feel Lucifer’s emotions as though they were his own, this too had never faded. 

Michael didn’t know why he even bothered to try it anymore.

He shook his head, grief a heavy thing in the pit of his stomach nearly as familiar as the constant tight pain in his right side, “You shouldn’t have done that, Sam.”

“It’s _Lucifer_ and you damn well know it you bloody impersonator. If I’d have known you’d get so maudlin I would have reconsidered.”

Michael heard what he wouldn’t say, _But I still would have done it._

Bile rose in his throat at the implications of Lucifer’s actions and suddenly he wondered uselessly if roles had been reversed all those eons ago, if Michael had had the courage to act on his plans himself instead of through Lucifer… would Lucifer have cast him out as Michael had done to him, or would he have chosen to fall with him? 

He thinks he knows the answer to that.

Forcing himself to swallow the nausea down he tells himself that he wouldn’t have. That Lucifer is inherently selfish and narcissistic, that he would never be able to put someone else above himself, that he hadn’t been doing just that very thing. He lets himself take Lucifer’s half truth, tells himself that he had just done what he’d had to back then, not because he was a coward that lacked the courage of his convictions, but because he was a good son. What were a few more pretty lies to add to the infinite pile of them that had comforted him during his lonely eternity as half of a broken set?

Either way, it was done, there was no way to know. It was in the past.

Their Father and brother come back from the back, similar expressions that Michael recognizes with difficulty as fatherly affection. It’s weird, it’s weird as hell, but’s also… warm? He doesn’t think that’s quite the best word for it, but it’s as close as he can do with feelings given everything else in his head at the moment.

“I’ll be watching you boys.” Their Father says, cutting through the mire that had formed in the room, “From time to time.”

Lucifer bristled at the words, his expression curling into something sour while Michael did his best to look properly chastised and small.

“Yeah, yeah, off You get.” Lucifer waved his hands, as if shooing a bird despite being the one with the wings “Can’t wait to do this again never.” 

God shook His head, a look of fondness gracing His features, spreading to all of them for a brief moment, even Michael before He was gone like He’d never been in the first place.

Time didn’t restart with Him gone, confirming that it was well and truly Amenadiel causing it, and for a long moment the brothers all eyed each other before tucking their wings away at nearly the same time.

“That wasn’t how I expected this to go.” Michael said first.

“Seeing as I envisioned being back at home with the Detective and a mai-tai by now, I’m afraid I’ll have to agree.” Lucifer gagged, “Good to know He’s still as insufferable as ever.”

“What did He give Chucky?” Michael asked, pointedly ignoring Lucifer.

“Charlie.”

“Same thing.”

Amenadiel sighed, but the noise wasn’t nearly as exasperated as it normally was, “He gave him Sight.”

“He’s got a real thing about that doesn’t He? Sighting the blind.”

“He wasn’t blind.”

“By _human_ standards.” Michael shrugged unevenly, his knotted, gnarled shoulder protesting the movement.

“Well, well, the little rugrat has a personal blessing from Dad himself.” Lucifer says dryly, “Seems as though there’s really no reason for you to keep time in a chokehold anymore brother.”

At Luci’s less than gentle urging, Amenadiel seems to remember himself.

“Right! Luci before I restart time you should go back to where you were.” Amenadiel says, moving to do the same.

It’s at that moment that Lucifer remembers the conversation he’d been in the middle of right before this Earth Shattering time stop. Oh joy of joys.

“Michael.” Lucifer called his other before he could make off like the little weasel he was in his core, “We’re not done here, go wait for me in interrogation.”

Michael scoffed, “And since when do _you_ give me orders Lucifer?”

“Since Dad pops up and bloody well makes me!” He growls, running out of patience for... his whole damn family really, “Take Maze with you.”

For a long moment it looks like Michael will fight him, Lucifer can feel his desire to, always more attuned to his twin than practically anyone else in the universe no matter how many times he wished it otherwise.

In the end, the angel scoops Mazikeen up under one arm and takes her into interrogation as asked.

“If I didn’t know better I would suspect the end of days was here.” Amenadiel said with some hesitancy as Michael slammed the door behind him.

“Yes, Michael listening to me is certainly something bizarre enough to warrant the suspicion isn’t it?” Lucifer straightened his already impeccable suit, a tiny nervous gesture no one would really notice if they didn’t know him.

Amenadiel nodded as Lucifer turned toward the evidence room and walked back into it.

“Let ‘er rip!” 

Amenadiel sighed, low and deep and prayed for the patience he knew he was going to need in spades for the coming days. Even in Heaven, before the Fall, the twins had always been just a little too much taken at once. As he turned time back on, he prayed for all of their friends as well.

Chloe was staring up at him expectantly and yet already disappointed and Lucifer could feel his desire to hide warring with his desire never to hurt her again.

He set a hand against her neck, letting himself take at least this little creature comfort before he ripped open a wound he’d honestly never expected to have to face. A lot of that going around this morning.

“My invulnerability has nothing to do with how much I care for you, I assure you that. I may not know why it returned exactly, but I can certainly rule that out. I care for you far more than I care for a single other thing in existence, and I know I still haven’t said the words you wish to hear, but there _is_ a reason.”

She hangs on his every word, nervous and hopeful almost in equal measure if the subtle quakes going through her are any indication. She doesn’t speak however, letting him gather himself despite how keyed up she is. Michael and his needling, Lucifer swears, if there’s anything this little ‘grounding’ stint does, he hopes that curing him of that particular personality trait is one of them.

“Love is something to me that I don’t think it is to you. Your meaning of the word is something beautiful, something fulfilling and kind. I cannot think of it the same. To me, love has terms and conditions and _claws._ It’s something to be leveraged or taken away entirely dependent on goodness or servitude and I _hate_ that. It’s not at all what I feel for you, neither of those.”

He hates that she looks surprised, although he also thinks that _of course she looks surprised._ His track record for dealing well with sudden, emotional situations is really against him, especially where she’s concerned. And truth be told it had been a struggle to get this much out. But he’d face far worse for her sake, had already if the few thousand years he’d just spent in Hell were in consideration.

“I don’t want to say those words because what I feel for you is more than any of those things. Detective, _Chloe,_ I would do absolutely anything for you, anything you asked of me. I would spend every single moment of our lives showing you just how deep my affection runs. Is… isn’t that the same?”

Her eyes flicked between his, as if trying to pry something from his mind. Though what it was, he couldn’t have said. But whatever it was she found, her shoulders relaxed and she sighed out a long breath

“You’re right.” She didn’t sound disappointed, turning the surprise now on him, “I know that. I know you care about me, I mean you literally went to Hell for me. Twice. It’s just- Michael got in my head.”

She said the name with such revulsion he had to smile.

“He is quite a bastard that way.” Lucifer agreed, his hand slid up to cup her cheek, reveling in how even this lightest and most innocent of touches felt more intense than cupping the stars in his hands had, “But he _is_ a liar. Thinking of you was about the only thing that got me through.”

“He said it was thousands of years for you down there. Was that.. Was _that_ really true?”

He wished sometimes he could stand to lie. But Lucifer knew the cost of giving into _that particular_ temptation and it was just a little too rich for his blood _._ Even if it would save Chloe a little bit of heartache.

“It is.” He replied, stroking his thumb across her cheek, striving to memorize the texture, “For me, it’s been about three thousand years since I’ve seen you last. Give or take a century.”

Her eyes, steel blue and piercing for their ferocity, flooded over with tears as a hand clapped itself over her mouth.

“Oh _Lucifer.”_

Then all at once she was in his arms. Or he was in hers. He couldn’t really tell which one of them had moved first. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, a little darker than he remembered it being though it looked good on her as just about everything did. He let himself relax for the first time in an age, knowing he was safe here with her. He couldn’t remember ever having been so utterly _glad_ to lose himself in a person’s embrace. Chloe would never let him drift too far out to sea.

“Tonight,” She said, her voice strained and a little rough and so very close to his ear, “I want to come stay with you.”

“I would never tell you no darling. Not for anything, least of all this.”

Her hands grip his shoulders and he feels ever-so-slightly more real, more grounded, like his equilibrium was finally returning to him. And she was, wasn’t she? His own personal center of gravity, pulling him along without even trying.

His own arms squeezed her as tightly as he could without hurting her for a moment before finally letting go. He hated the distance, but he had other matters to attend to as well. He certainly wouldn’t give them a second thought if he let himself get any more wrapped up in her.

“Not to alarm you, but when we go back in there, we have a bit of a _situation._ ” 

Her brows fell down heavily over her eyes in her ‘I’m alarmed’ face. This is why the ‘Be not afraid’ route just never worked out for him.

“What situation?”

“Well,” He cleared his throat, “Right as I was about to speak a few minutes ago, Amenadiel freaked out and accidentally paused time.”

“Oh.” She nodded, blinking the information into her mind with an ease that Lucifer still suspected was mostly force of will, “But you guys fixed it, obviously.”

“Oh yes, yes, we did. But while time was stopped we had a few… guests. Two of which are in the interrogation room.”

“Who is it?”

“Mike and Maze.” Lucifer sighed, “Mikey wasn’t happy that his big scheme had failed and tried to come fight Meni and I. Wanker that he is, Michael is used to being stronger than our siblings since none of the other angels in our order are much for fighting. Lost in just a few minutes, or at least I think it was minutes, it’s hard to tell with time stopped.”

Chloe took that about as calmly as she could, a little tremor going through her that had more to do with rage than it did fear. Lucifer is quite frankly proud of her, there were few Celestials that could handle Michael’s power up close for long, and yet here was Chloe ready to take him apart without a thought for the fear he inspired. In truth he was also turned on, he loved it when she went into serious mode. There was a certain way she set her jaw that Lucifer found impossibly attractive. It brought a smile to his face to imagine her turning that expression on Michael’s sorry ass.

A smile which fell from his face as he explained the second half of this story.

“Dad was here.”

At that Chloe’s forced calm burst, her eyes bugging so hard they might well come out of her head.

 _“God_ was here? In my precinct!?” She pressed a hand to her chest, forcing herself to breathe in, “Oh my- _God was here._ Lucifer are you- are you alright? He didn’t hurt you? Oh Go- _fuck,_ you don’t have to go back to hell do you?”

“No, _no_.” He shook his head, “He skipped right over that, because apparently I’ve been punished enough at long last. He came to see the child and to hand down a punishment on Michael. Nothing to do with me, except that now I’m my brother’s keeper.” 

“What?” She asked woodenly.

“That’s _exactly_ what we said. It seems father’s outgrown banishing his children to fiery hellscapes to ponder their mistakes and has opted for Earth instead. Michael is to stay here and _right his wrongs and seek forgiveness,_ disgusting as that sounds _._ So he’ll be here for an _age.”_

“That’s-” She sighed, “One of the worst things that could have happened. Do you think he’s actually gonna play nice?”

“Father said He’d be watching so I imagine so. Which if you ask me, is dramatically worse. Michael’s always on his worst behavior when he thinks Daddy’s watching.” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Sycophantic twat.”

“Is he dangerous?” 

“Debatable.” She shot him a look, “What? I haven’t spent more than an hour around the asshole since The Fall, I have no idea what he’s like anymore. _”_

She scrubbed her hands down over her face, giving them both a moment before she spoke.

“Okay, well you should go talk to him and I should get back to work. Maybe check up on Ella.” She flicked her eyes up at his, “Unless you want me to come with you?”

“No, darling it’s quite alright.” He gave her a soft smile, appreciating how often she was willing to stand beside him when he needed it, “I think I can quite handle this. Please make sure Miss Lopez is alright, she must be going through quite a bit.”

She nodded, turning to leave the room before she pivoted on her toe, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It was no less devastating for its brevity.

She strode out of the room, and Lucifer gave himself a moment before he followed after her.


	2. And The Walls Did Crumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely responses! Y'all are spoiling me!

In the interrogation room, Michael and Maze were sat on opposite sides of the clunky metal table he and the Detective had interrogated countless suspects at. As much as it made Lucifer nauseous to see Michael in a place that he viewed as so firmly his own, it was almost funny how miserable he looked.

He decided to let them stew for a moment.

Mazikeen, impatient as ever, dropped her feet from where they’d been resting atop the table and instead leaned menacingly towards Michael. 

“So about this ‘Getting me a soul’ thing. Guess that’s canceled now that Daddy’s cut you off, huh?” She half snarled with all the diplomacy of a rusty potato peeler.

In spite of himself, Lucifer smiled at that. She was such a pain in his ass, more often lately than usual, but her gruffness had always been his favorite thing about her. She was so detestable it was actually quite charming. Especially when that delightful prickliness was turned on someone who’d more than earned it.

“Gee Mazikeen what would have led you to such an insightful conclusion?” Michael’s jaw went slack in mocking awe, “Can’t exactly cough up a soul with compromised divinity can I?”

So _that_ was the proverbial carrot on a stick he’d been goading her with. 

Of course.

“Like I know how the fuck it works!” She snapped, smacking her hands on the table popping up to her feet to pace around behind her chair, “This is _great._ So you get a time out and I get fucked over. Again!”

Michael’s eyes flashed gold, blazing with all the righteous fury of heaven that he couldn’t currently bring to bare as he leaned forward towards her.

 _“A time out?”_ His lip curled up in that hideous expression of revulsion Lucifer specifically avoided making just because of him, “You think that’s all this is? My Father is _humiliating_ me by forcing me take lessons from the family fuck up on how to apologize to _ants._ I don’t think you understand how ridiculous this is for me.”

Maze laughed humorlessly once, flopping back down in her chair.

“You sound _just_ like him.” She scoffed, “All either of you can think of is yourselves and what’s going wrong for _you.”_

“Isn’t that what you were just doing too?” He cocked a brow at her, “Why is it different for you, huh?”

 _“Because I’m all I have!”_ She screamed, “I’m all I’ve _ever_ had! My mother is dead, not that she gave a fuck about me or any of my siblings in the first place! _My_ friends are _Lucifer’s_ friends and they _always_ choose him over me, Lucifer sees me as disposable and he _always_ has, even Eve-”

She dragged in a breath to stop the tide of the words as she noticed Michael’s smile spreading wider and wider across his lips. 

“You _annoying little bitch.”_ She snarled, launching herself across the table at him, signaling Lucifer that it was time to intercede.

“Maze!” He swept in, pulling the little heartbroken demon off of his cackling brother, “Maze stop!”

 _“No!_ Why should I!?” She shouted, pounding her fists and kicking her legs as she fought against Lucifer’s hold more ineffectually than she’d ever fought him on anything.

“Because he’s not worth the dry cleaning bill it would take to get his blood out of those lovely pants.”

She wrenched herself from Lucifer’s grasp, her expression as wild and vicious as he’d ever seen it.

 _“Fuck you Lucifer!”_ She bit out, though she surprised him by not immediately bailing out of the room like he’d expected her to. 

“Come now Maze, that’s not all you have to say to me, is it?” He tilted head, calling on thousands of years of having known her, “Let’s have it, what’s eating you?”

 _“You._ And not in the sexy way!” She shouted, her words curdling as they hit the air, “You really are such a clueless bastard.”

“Oh?” He slid his hands into his pockets, his own ire hot at the back of his throat, “Because I didn’t give you what you wanted? False hope in something impossible that you _don’t need?”_

She swung out another hand, which he easily caught. She wasn’t even trying to hurt him, not really. There just wasn’t enough room in between her ribs to contain everything she felt, it had to go somewhere.

“Mazikeen _listen to me.”_ Lucifer growled, letting Hell creep into his voice, just enough to comfort her with, “You do not _need_ a soul. You’re a _demon._ All a soul would do for you is make you feel guilty about all the things that you love to do and rot your body away.”

 _“_ You’re wrong! _It would make people care about me. I’m so fucking scared that no one actually loves me because without one I can't be loved.”_

She blinked, before whipping her head back around to Michael, who gave a little wave as his influence fluttered around the room. She kicked at the table, flipping it up to slam directly into his insufferably smug face. The noise Michael made as the table cracked up against his nose was almost worth all the trouble his damn power was causing.

Lucifer sighed, wanting to slam his head into a wall. Possibly Maze’s as well, though with considerably more affection. He could have sworn they’d already been through this, but he supposed he should have expected this kind of stubbornness from someone with Maze’s constitution.

“I’ve known you to be many things, Maze, but a fool was never one of them until today.” 

She breathed heavily through her nose, and he knew he had about ten seconds to explain before she threw that table like a frisbee at him instead.

“Have you ever considered that possibly, the reason I’ve been less than welcoming to you of late, is because you _frequently betray me_ and _not_ that I don’t care for you?” The words were a touch condescending, but he did his best to gentle his tone even past his irritation and wondered when he began making such considerations for her.

“Because I can assure you, were you _any_ other demon, I would have killed you after the _first_ time. If I didn’t care for you, I would have sent you back to Hell by now, not selfishly kept you by my side. You were angry at me for not taking you back to Hell with me. I didn’t take you because I couldn’t bare the idea of all of our humans being up here, out of sight, without someone to watch their back. Because despite all this betrayal lunacy, I trusted you Maze.”

Her jaw worked but she didn’t speak, her eyes glittering as she tried once again to compress far too much in too small a space.

“If I didn’t care I wouldn’t have let you come anywhere near our friends, because believe you me, you’ve hurt them plenty of times, which is something I’ve made my stance on very clear. Once again, you’ve done this far more than I would have allowed from anyone else.”

“You kept my _mother_ from me.” She snarled, the sound wetter than he was sure she wanted, “Just because of some stupid deal!”

“Yes because of the deal but also because Lilith _didn’t_ give a toss about you!” He finally snapped, “Why in all the seven Hells would I send you, someone with hair trigger emotions, to meet a woman who would only disappoint!? I’m not _actually_ stupid, Maze, I know how that would have gone just as much as you do! And soul or no, I _know_ you have feelings and I _know_ how awful you would have felt after.” 

She tossed her head back, laughing bitterly, “Oh so _now_ you know I have feelings.”

“You’re a _demon_ Maze, forgive me if I was a little slow on the uptake! I didn’t know you _could_ have feelings until we came here, and even then you never _talk_ to me about how you feel, there’s only the consequences. How am I meant to know what I’ve done if you won’t tell me until we’re in the midst of a fight during your nth betrayal?”

She folded her arms, “I _have_ tried telling you Lucifer.”

“What, when sixteen other things were happening!?” He threw his hands up in the air, “And one of those times Mother was rehashing the plot of Die Hard! I swear, you sabotage yourself nearly as badly as I do.”

Her jaw kept working as she considered what he’d said, licking her teeth as she did so. She seemed so torn between confusion and lingering anger, like it had genuinely never occurred to her that she could be part of her own problem. Which was likely because Lucifer hadn’t exactly tried to talk things out with her either. 

With all the learning they’d done about how to spend time with their humans, what to do and what not to do, and how to keep from hurting them, they’d never once thought to apply it to each other. How ridiculous.

Maze snorted, her expression not yet fond, though far less hostile than it had been.

“Alright, fine. If I _talk_ to you when I get upset, when you’re not already on one, do you promise to listen instead of dismissing me?”

“Devil’s honor, love.”

Mocking applause came from behind him.

For one beautiful moment he’d forgotten about Michael.

“Well, that was about as fun as watching sunspots. Now that you’re done, can we get the fuck out of here?” He whined, leaning back in his chair with little regard for how childish he looked.

“Oh no, no, no, brother mine.” Lucifer snaked down into the now unoccupied chair across from Michael, “You and I still have quite a lot to talk about. Goodbye Mazikeen!”

Maze looked between the two of them and evidently decided that it wasn’t her problem and trapesed out of the room.

“Now,” Lucifer’s eyes glowed a faint red, “You have been an _total_ pain in my arse today, and I am not possessed of much more patience so let’s do this quickly, hm?”

Michael pursed his lips, trying to figure out the best possible way to tell his brother to go fuck himself with a sandpaper pocket pussy. He was opening his mouth to say some approximation of that when Lucifer railroaded over him as usual.

“Because, and I stress this, _I do not trust you,_ you will be staying at Lux on one of the unused floors. You are free to come and go as you please, emphasis on the go, but if I hear of you causing trouble I will break your _other_ wing to match it’s brother, understand?”

He hated that the threat turned his stomach, not in the least because he knew Lucifer absolutely meant it. He refused to let his fear show however.

“I want to leave just as much as you want to get rid of me. I’ll be a model prisoner, don’t worry.”

Lucifer smiled, though the expression did nothing to soften him.

“Second, like myself you will begin seeing Linda.” Lucifer mentally calculated exactly how much he was going to owe that poor woman and decided later to give her her choice of an island, a house, or both for this.

Michael frowned at that, cocking his head just a little in a gesture so irritatingly familiar Lucifer wished he could keep himself from ever doing it again.

“You want _me_ to commit _adultery_ with Amenadiel’s _Baby Mama_?”

In the few seconds that Lucifer’s brain short circuited trying to figure out how Michael knew about the concept of a Baby Mama, but not apparently therapy, he could hear Maze laugh from somewhere outside of the room. Seemed he wasn’t the only one who’d thought of the one way mirror.

 _“No, you complete and utter_ **_fucking_ ** _moron._ I want you to see her as a _therapist!_ Dad knows you need one just as much as I do.” 

Michael had the nerve to look appalled.

“That’s even fucking worse!” He groaned, “You seriously expect me to just go… _complain_ about my problems to some random human woman?”

“Well why not? You seem to have no problem bitching to everyone else.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, “Though Linda is hardly _random_ , she’s nearly our sister-in-law.”

“Still doesn’t explain how doing this is supposed to “help” me.” Michael said sarcastically, complete with air quotes.

“I don’t pretend to understand it, but Linda has a way of making talking to her feel... alright.” Lucifer gestured vaguely, before sighing, “She’s helpful.” 

“Right.” Michael drew the word out skeptically, “You know, I think I’ll do it. Just to prove you wrong.”

“That’s the stupidest way to justify doing what you’re told, but if that’s how you’re able to swallow it down, fine.” 

Lucifer froze for a moment, a myriad of emotions flickering across his expression in less than a few seconds, before settling on firm denial.

“What was that?” Michael leaned forward, tasting the air with his other sense, trying to sniff out Lucifer’s fear.

It wasn’t much, the whisper of a thought really, but it was there.

Michael smiled.

“What did you just think of?” 

Lucifer shook his head, narrowing his eyes as he immediately caught onto Michael’s little trick.

“Put it away Michael.” 

He raised his hands passively, drawing his aura back to himself, “Can’t blame me for tryin’. Just my nature.”

At that Lucifer frowned harder, “Natures can be overcome, brother.”

With that he stood, turning and heading towards the door of the interrogation room.

“Well, what are you waiting for Mikey? Crack on!”

Ella was freaking out, which in her defense, she did just interview her serial killer ex-boyfriend. She’d barricaded herself in her lab the moment she’d gotten a chance.

She knew it was a bad idea, reasonably. That someone would need her for something, or even that she wasn’t the only lab tech in the building, but the unreasonable part of her, the fearful part was in control.

So here she sat, huddled mostly in a ball on the far side of her lab, trying to keep from crying loud enough for anyone to hear outside.

It wasn’t unfamiliar territory. During the time she’d spent in that hospital she’d been prone to doing things like this. More than once she’d all but embedded herself in her closet and refused to come out for anything short of a well aimed Thorazine shot. The small space soothed her, it was an environment she could control, a room she could see all of. 

The crying, though, that had always been beyond her control. 

No matter how hard she tried to rein it in, when she really got going, the waterworks just would not shut off. She could keep the wailing to a minimum but the second someone saw her and her red eyes and nose they’d immediately know she’d been crying. And she’d spent so long crafting her happy-go-lucky optimism, she couldn’t take the idea of anyone knowing how hard it was to maintain.

When she heard the knock against her lab door, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Ella? You okay?” Chloe called, “No, that’s stupid of course you’re not okay. I- can I come in?”

“Nah, I’m okay!” She shouted back her voice hoarse and nothing like the chipper, resilient tone she’d been going for, “Don’t worry Decker!”

“Ella it’s okay. I know you’re really scared, you’ve been through a lot in the last couple of days. But you don’t have to face it alone, I’m right here for you. The whole tribe will be here for you, and you know Maze wouldn’t let anything come anywhere near you. I can understand if you want to be alone, and if you do, I’ll let you be. But I don’t think you do.”

There was a reason Chloe was the one who took charge when hostages were involved. Her voice was soothing as hell, and had just the right amount of authority to be reassuring. Ella had always admired that, since her own voice was a little too high and raspy to carry that off.

Ella crawled out of her hiding spot and limped over to the door, her left leg having gone numb who knew how long ago. Slowly, she took apart her mostly ineffectual barricade and opened her door.

Chloe was pulling her into a hug even before she could start apologizing for how ridiculous she was being. 

“Ella I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” She whispered to her.

“Dude you got kidnapped too.” She said through the thickness of tears at the back of her throat, “It’s not like you weren’t busy.”

Chloe’s laugh was just as wet and heavy as her own. 

“Been a crazy couple days.” She agreed, “Kinda thought the whole ‘evil twin’ thing was just a TV trope. Should have known it’d happen for real in LA.”

She squeezed Chloe one more time and made herself pull back, sure her face was a mess of snot and tears. How did she always make such a mess when she cried? 

“Yeah, wish I could say the same for the ‘serial killer boyfriend’ trope.” She snatched a tissue off of a nearby desk, “That one’s not LA exclusive. But honestly with me it was only really a matter of time.”

She was too busy dabbing at her eyes to notice the expression that constricted Chloe’s features at that.

“We should go out tomorrow, if you’re up to it.” Chloe suggested.

Ella turned a look up at her. Not that Chloe wasn’t fun, she was, in her own way. But she was never the person to suggest going out. 

“Um, may-maybe.” Ella nodded, trying not to question the gesture, “I’ll, uh, if I’m feeling up to it. And if you are, I mean, sure. At Lux?”

“I was thinking maybe one of those karaoke bars you were talking about a couple weeks ago.” She rocked awkwardly onto her toes, shuffling her weight.

Alright, now Ella knew something was fishy.

“ Alright dish it Decker, what’s going on?” 

Her face scrunched up, and her eyes flicked away for a moment. Classic nervous Decker.

“So,” She cleared her throat, “That evil twin? He’s staying. And I think he’s probably going to be staying at Lux.”

Ella’s eyes almost bugged out of her head, _“i_ _¿Que?!”_

Chloe nodded, “Yeah, apparently Lucifer’s Dad, uh, _came by_ and told them he can’t come home until he,” She cleared her throat, “Earns _forgiveness_ from everyone he’s wronged. So Lucifer is stuck watching him until… whenever I guess.”

Ella’s brain hit pause for a moment as she tried to process the sheer _douchiness_ of pulling a stunt like that.

 _“No wonder_ Lucifer is the way he is.” She breathed out, “What kind of _pendejo_ just orders people around like that! I’m surprised Lucifer even agreed to it.”

“Oh he didn’t, but he also didn’t really have a choice.” Chloe muttered, “His Dad isn’t someone you just say no to.”

Ella had gathered as much by the way Lucifer ranted about him, but it was entirely different seeing the way the man could apparently just order his mostly unruly sons around. She could understand why Lucifer seemed so married to his role as the Devil. He must have felt such a kinship with history’s most famous prodigal son. 

“Well, if I ever see that dude he’s gonna get a good whoopingwith my chancla.” She folded her arms.

“Yeah I want to give him a piece of my mind too.” Chloe muttered darkly before sighing her wrath out into the air, “But, about tomorrow, I don’t want to push you if you’d rather take some time.”

Ella shook her head a tad frantically, having displaced her troubles for a moment. That alone gave her her answer.

“No, no, that’s fine. If I spend too much time alone, I’m just gonna work myself up and end up with the anxiety pukes for the whole day, so this is probably the best thing I can do right now. I’ll text you the address after work, okay?”

Chloe nodded, trying for a smile, “Yeah, sounds great.”


	3. Living on Love and Libations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Heathens~

Dan thought he had the market cornered on earth shattering revelations.

Having to fess up to Palmetto had been so much of an upheaval, between finishing off his marriage, nearly getting him bounced from the force altogether, and all but pulverizing that last little scrap of self esteem he’d been guarding since he was a Rookie, he’d thought that was the worst it could be.

But now next to learning that his ex-wife’s partner, a guy he’d come to actually think of as more or less a friend, was _actually the fucking Devil himself,_ Palmetto looked like a cake walk.

Sure, Lucifer hadn’t exactly hidden that fact what with saying it every three seconds, but as someone who had been around since _before humanity_ he had to have known no one would _really_ believe him without proof. Especially not in this day and age. 

Dan certainly hadn’t, even with all the little inexplicable things that seemed to constantly happen around him. 

It really did explain a lot though.

What Dan was honestly having the most trouble trying to process, was how Chloe was alright with all of this. Chloe was, and honestly always had been, one of the most reasonable and responsible people Dan had ever met. It was mostly due to her that their marriage lasted even as long as it did, and Dan damn well knew that. How did someone like Chloe reconcile letting the _literal embodiment of evil_ hang around her and worse, _Trixie?_

Trixie, who had begun taking on a rougher, tougher persona to match Maze who was a _demon and also her most frequent babysitter._

Dan took a burning shot of Tequila, his sixth in a row from where he sat, at the counter of a dive bar he’d picked for being the first one he could find. It was midnight, but he’d been there since it had opened. He couldn’t hardly stand but all of these things were still swirling around in his head, which meant he needed to keep going.

He was honestly surprised they hadn’t cut him off yet, but it wasn’t like he was causing trouble. He was just quietly having a complete existential crisis at their bar. 

Dan supposed he probably should have done this with less liquor, or at least at home, but the Devil knew where he lived and he didn’t think he could quite handle seeing Lucifer right now.

He’d managed while they were looking for Chloe, but that was only because he forced himself to focus only on finding her and nothing else. Without something to direct his focus, he couldn’t seem to stem the panic. 

Strangely, it wasn’t fear of the afterlife, that was bothering him the most. He’d already kind of figured he was going to Hell when he died, he had been a dirty cop too long to avoid it. No, what was bothering him was _this_ life.

Everyone seemed to adore Lucifer. Which, he was secure enough to admit, dude was charming. But he was also a massive asshole who had the emotional depth of a teaspoon on his best days. Sure he’d gotten a bit better at it, but still, there was no reason that anyone who knew the truth should be able to stand to stick around. Let alone _choose_ to. And so far, everyone he knew that knew had chosen to.

No one chose to stay by _Dan._ Not really. He always seemed to be the odd man out, no matter what the situation was, and he’d mostly made peace with that. It was… well not fine, but it was manageable. But knowing he kept losing out to _the Devil?_ It made him feel crushed and hollow in a way that very, very few things ever had. Even Trixie seemed to like him better.

It was a childish thought, but he was one hundred and fifty dollars into his tab and he wasn’t in the business of lying to himself any more.

Daniel Espinoza was a bigger douche than the Devil. Put that on his headstone.

“Dan.”

Dan jumped, or rather he would have if he had any kind of reaction time. As it was, he had trouble moving his eyes over to the person calling his name from his side.

It was Maze, because of course it was. Beautiful, deadly, Maze with her penchant for knives and torture and teaching his daughter things.

“You,” He slurred, “Yer a deeeemon.”

“Yep.” Maze nodded, flagging down the bartender.

“‘S yer face all red too?”

“No,” She glanced over at him, a smirk turning the corner of her lip, “Half of it’s rotten though, exposed muscles, puss, _maggots.”_

Dan’s already compromised stomach roiled as he sluggishly waved away the description as she laughed. How had he ever thought she was anything other than hellspawn?

“Calm down Dan,” She rolled her eyes, “I’m not gonna hurt you. Unless you’re into that, hm?”

“No.” He balked, “A little. But no. No, no, no. Don’t care ‘bout me. Don’ hur’ Trix, kay. She’s my… she’s my _baby_ , Maze.”

Her eyes hardened as she turned more towards him. She put her hands over his, ignoring how he tried to drunkenly wiggle away from her grasp.

“I would _never_ hurt that kid.” Maze said with such genuine fervor that it caught Dan off guard, “Why do you think I trained her how to throw knives? I want her to be safe just as much as you do, Dan. She’s my best friend.”

That should have scared Dan even more. His kid had made friends with a demon, and Mazikeen no less, the Devil’s right hand. But, looking into her eyes, familiar chocolate brown and lit with protective fury for _his kid,_ it was hard to think of her that way. Maybe that was by design, maybe it wasn’t. 

But Dan had had enough of worrying for one night.

“Okay.” He nodded, “Okay.”

Maze drew her hands back and brought her beer up to her lips, pausing before she took a drink.

“Michael really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

That....that was a whole other rabbit hole Dan had spent the better part of his existential drinking binge falling down.

Heaven. He’d never really given it much thought, once again having assumed he was going to Hell. There was no sense thinking about something he’d never get to see. But even if he had thought about it, he probably wouldn’t have anticipated the Archangel Michael, Saint Michael, the Sword of God and leader of Heaven’s armies to be such a _dick._ Or Lucifer’s twin for that matter, which certainly didn’t help his case. Especially when it seemed like he was somehow the shittier of the two.

“Yeah.” He nodded, slightly gratified that apparently even angels could be douche-ier than the Devil, “He did.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he was going to get you caught up in this too.”

“Why didn’t you-” He stopped for a moment, swallowing emotions or vomit or both, “Why didn’t _you_ tell me? ‘Bout alllll this?”

Maze’s face twisted up into something like a scowl though with much less anger. For a moment he thought she might not answer until she said in the softest voice he’d ever heard from her:

“Because I was afraid.” 

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes, and just like that her usual persona slid back into place to cover her soft, sensitive bits, and _that_ Dan could understand.

“I don’t have many friends, Dan. Trix was my first one, and believe it or not, I think we’re friends too. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to go back to the way it was when I thought you all hated me. Being alone up here is torture, believe me I would know. I don’t know how any of you do it.”

Dan reeled back at that, perhaps a little too literally because before he knew it he was falling towards the floor. 

He didn’t land though, and it took a moment for his alcohol addled brain to catch up with why. Maze, with her demon speed, had caught him.

“Fuck, dude, how much did you drink?” She wrinkled her nose.

“Los’ track.” 

She nodded, “Yeah, time for you to go home.” 

He wanted to argue, but he knew she was right. If Lucifer did come to- do _whatever_ , he’d have to do it to Dan’s unconscious body. 

“Up you go.” She said, lifting him effortlessly.

Dan made to dig for his wallet, though Maze plucked it from his back pocket for him, a racy expression that she probably didn’t mean gracing her features. 

She took out his card and handed it to the bartender, and Dan wanted to question why she knew which car he used, but decided he probably didn’t actually want the answer.

When the bartender handed it back, she slipped it back into his wallet and into his pocket all while maintaining that magnetic eye contact.

“You know, you’re handling it better than Decker did.”

“Half a gallon of liquor is better than taking off for a few weeks?”

Maze’s expression inexplicably darkened and that animal fear of being next to a bigger, scarier predator threaded through Dan’s heart.

“Yes.” 

She left it at that, hoisting Dan up to his feet as he’d begun sagging, and all but carried him to the Taxi waiting outside.

“I’m driving your car home, don’t worry I’ll drive it _carefully_ or whatever.” She said as if the idea itself were disgusting to her, “Get some rest Dan. You did good.”

She awkwardly patted his head a couple times and shut the door on him, going around to pay the cabbie before swaggering off toward his car.

He watched her go, everything about her at once completely new and woefully familiar. In a sense, nothing had changed. She was still exactly who she’d been yesterday, the incredibly scary bounty hunter lady that loved knives and had a soft spot for his kid. Maybe, Dan would never be fully comfortable with things as they were now, but had he _ever_ really been fully comfortable with Maze and for that matter _Lucifer_ before either? 

Maybe that was just how things _were_ with all of them. And maybe... that was okay.

Chloe had spent much more time at Lux than she ever imagined she would the first time she had stepped into it. It wasn’t her style, too gaudy and expensive to be somewhere she would spend much time.

How wrong she had been.

She’d been through some of her best and worst moments in this building, and she’d grown an affection for it, even if it still wasn’t exactly to her taste. That didn’t detract from how it had slowly begun to feel like home to her, especially the penthouse.

As she pulled into the by now familiar private parking lot, she let her mind drift.

She’d been good today. She’d done her evals and taken care of her paperwork so she wouldn’t have that bugging her at the back of her mind, despite how she’d wanted to bolt out of the station the entire day. Linda, saint that so obviously was, had volunteered to let Trixie stay over to give her the night to herself.

A freedom she’d be very diligent in utilizing.

Things had been too busy lately for them to have a chance to fall back into bed together, and Chloe was eager for a repeat. 

As much as she’d hate to inflate his ego any more than it already was, Lucifer absolutely had a right to brag about how good he was in bed. She’d had good sex before, yeah, but nothing like it was with him. He’d gone slow and she’d _still_ had trouble keeping up. It was intoxicating.

The memory made her skin tingle even as she stabbed her code into the elevator’s keypad.

By the time the doors opened up, she’d thought herself into half a frenzy.

She more than likely would have barged in and sat herself on Lucifer’s lap, had the sound of his rich singing not met her ears before her foot met the ground.

_“Boys when my baby found me, I was three days on a drunken sin. Woke with her walls around me, nothing in her room but an empty crib.”_

Chloe vaguely recognized the song, but was too caught up to bother trying to recall where from. Lucifer was always a concert worthy performer, but there was something to be said about the way he sang when he thought he was alone. There was so much passion in his voice, a fire that had little to do with Hell.

_“And I was burnin’ up a fever, I didn’t care much how long I lived. But I swear I thought I dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong I did.”_

The music transitioned to a heavier, more gospel like sound, something she would never had anticipated from the Devil. But as soon as she heard the words, the worshipfulness of them, she understood. Her breath caught in her throat.

_“When, my, time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark Earth. No grave can keep my body down, I’ll crawl home to her. When, my, time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark Earth. No grave can keep my body down, I’ll crawl home to her.”_

She scrambled forward as the elevator doors began to close, tripping over herself soundly enough to announce her presence to Lucifer. 

“Ah, there you are Detective.” He said from his place at his piano, “I was just playing something to pass the time.”

“Don’t-” She stammered, holding one hand out as the other pressed against her chest, “I mean, ahem, you don’t have to stop on my account.”

He gave her that narrow eyed searching look, like he knew something was up but he didn’t call her on it. Instead he scooted over on the bench to make room.

“Well, then by all means, come join me.”

She did, fluttering nervously about for a moment before she reminded herself she was allowed to touch him and let herself press up against his side. 

The notes of the song gentled back out into the verse at Lucifer’s voice swept high and sweet through the lyrics again.

_“My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don’t forgive me, I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me.”_

She leaned up, meeting his eyes before she pressed a kiss to his cheek, the impact of the song he’d chosen hitting her too hard to resist.

He grinned, _“When I was kissin’ on my baby, and she put her love down soft and sweet, in the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and Hell were words to me.”_

His eyes met hers, deep brown and endless as the eternity they had seen. She couldn’t imagine the endless swaths of time he’d watched pass, or how much of it was spent without this. Without love or kindness, and yet still that was all she could see reflected back at her now. How she could ever have thought such a beautiful creature was evil, she didn’t know.

“Lucifer,” She whispered, turning sideways to face him on the bench, “Will you take me to bed?”

“Gladly, my dearest.”

His arm came around her waist, pulling her close to him with aching patience. She tested his resolve, raising her legs to hook them over his hips. His eyes flitted from her legs to her face and back again before his characteristic smirk flashed in.

“Do you have a kink for tempting the Devil? You do seem to have quite a knack for it.”

She smiled, letting her arms drape around his neck. She watched his expression grow hungrier at her proximity, her heart beating faster as the power in that washed over her. 

“Maybe.” She answered cheekily, “Maybe I just like how you look at me when I do it.”

“And how’s that?” His hand slid up her thigh to hold her hip, thumb stroking the little bit of skin her top left exposed.

“Like you want to eat me.”

His eyes darted down, quickly but unmistakably as his smile widened.

“Oh Detective, I would absolutely _love_ to.”

Leaning forward he ran the tip on his nose over her jawline, feather light as his lips met her ear. The feeling of his teeth against her skin made her shudder while his hands on her waist, clutching almost hard enough to ache. The juxtaposition had her dizzy.

“Of all the delicacies both in Heaven and Earth, nothing entices me like your taste.”

She shuddered head to toe, a wave of warmth hitting her so firmly she latched onto his arm for support even as he chuckled into her ear. That sound too, so soft and devilish and so very frustratingly _Lucifer_ was responsible for the whine that she couldn’t quite strangle.

“Bed, _now.”_ She demanded, unable to stop herself from rolling her hips forward into his.

He moaned, unabashed in that way Chloe was unaccustomed to but already so taken by. She’d never had a lover make so much noise and she found she loved it. It wasn’t performative, just responsive and _fuck_ if it didn’t do it for her. And her self esteem quite frankly.

“As you wish, Detective.”

Licking his lips, Lucifer slid his hands under her ass, supporting her as he stood. She hooked her legs more firmly around his hips, enjoying the little gasp he let out as she pressed herself close to his hips again.

She smirked.

Not to be outdone, Lucifer lifted her higher, with an ease that still took her breath away.

“If you didn’t want to wait, you could have said so.” He kissed her stomach, the sensation making it flutter, even through her shirt, “The top of the piano would have sufficed.”

He tapped under her thighs with his pinkies and she took the hint, unable to keep down her moan as her legs fell across his shoulders.

“Do I-” She breathed, shuddering as he pressed a kiss against her clothed core, “Do I weigh anything to you?”

“Hardly.” His reply was muffled, “You’re already petite even by human standards. It’s rather like holding an ice cream cone.”

He emphasized his point by brushing his lips against her core again. She was going to pass out soon if he kept doing that without the relief of _actually_ doing that, she was sure. 

_“Lucifer.”_ She whined, _“Please.”_

He was kind enough to stop teasing, lowering her just enough that he could see where he was going. Though he didn’t quite lower her enough to give her a break from the dizzying effect of having him so close to where she needed him most.

Luckily, the bed wasn’t far. In seconds he was lowering her down to the ridiculously plush surface. For a long moment he simply took her in, his eyes roving all over her form. It made her a little nervous when he did that, but she knew it wasn’t because he was being critical. It was more like he wanted to memorize every line of her, like if he didn’t he might just forget something crucial. 

So instead of closing in on herself, Chloe let herself relax, maybe even preen a little under his gaze.

She laid her arms out above her head, let her legs fall open and took a slow, even breath.

“Undress me?” She was proud that her voice didn’t shake, despite the desperate pace of her heart.

Lucifer’s response was to glide his fingertips all the way from her hip bones up over her breasts and to the collar of her sensible work blouse. His clever fingers could make quick work of the buttons, but he doesn’t, choosing instead to let her feel the slow drag of each movement. He went extra slow as his touch neared her breasts. It was torturous in the best of ways.

He slid her shirt from her shoulders, brushing her hair delicately back as he did so, his eyes trained on each little movement. His hand slid back around to unclasp her bra in one quick, easy motion. He plucked it off of her, tossing it towards the chair she tended to pile her immediate belongings on when she was over.

The glancing hints of contact were driving her absolutely insane, not enough to do anything other than heighten her awareness of him. And as it was she was already far too aware of just how close he wasn’t.

Just when she was about to open her mouth to beg him again, his weight pressed against her. First with his hips against hers, then his thumbs brushing her breasts, with finally his lips pressing against her throat. She sighed in satisfaction, even as she tensed up with the pleasure of it.

She rolled her body up to meet his, her fingers sliding into his hair. She knew his image was important to him, but she kind of wished he would let his curls go more often. He looked wild, yes, but it suited him just as much as his more controlled look did.

He stole her focus away as he kissed down her body, gentle little things that played havoc with the sensitivity he’d called up underneath her skin. How a kiss could feel like that, she would never know. 

“Lucifer.” She breathed as his stubbled cheek met the soft inside of her thigh.

His eyes caught hers and she shuddered. They weren’t red, like they sometimes went when he forgot himself in her, but that didn’t take away from how warm they were. A delicious mixture of carnality and affection that would keep her from breathing if she didn’t look away. Or he didn’t, because she couldn’t remember how.

He hooked his thumbs into her underwear, keeping his eyes firmly trained on hers as he slid them off of her.

“Chloe,” Her name sounded so warm the way he said it, so inviting, “Do you know how much I admire your strength?”

She could barely focus on what he was saying as he pressed a kiss to the juncture of her hip and thigh.

“It’s rare to see a mortal so self possessed that they could stand against Heaven itself without flinching. _I_ could hardly do that, so to watch you so small but so determined to do what you believe in, well it inspires me so very very much.”

He smoothed his hands up her hips again, this time latching on to make sure she couldn’t go anywhere. Not that she would be trying to, but she had a hard time holding still once he started in on her.

“But beyond that, it makes me want to watch you _crumble_. It makes me want to pleasure you until you can hardly lift an arm, my darling Detective. After all, I know now the toll that kind of strength takes. I’d like to relieve you of it for a while.”

Chloe, shuttered, moaning in earnest as his tongue slid between her folds, cleverly flicking against her clit at the end of it’s arc. 

“What do you say?” He smirked, knowing the answer already.

 _“Yes.”_ She breathed anyway, unable to take his teasing anymore, “Yes, please please-!”

Before she could finish, his lips sealed over her clit, sucking with just enough pressure to have her arching into him though his hands on her hips kept her down.

_“Lucifer!”_

The first time he’d offered her this, she had to be convinced that it was something he genuinely wanted to do. She wasn’t used to men being so enthusiastic about it, or if they were, she wasn’t used to it actually being _good._ Lucifer, like with pretty much everything else he did that he cared about, made eating pussy an _art._

His tongue rubbed against the sides of her clit, sending warm waves of pleasure all the way across her body before he let the gentlest edge of a tooth grace the very tip of her, sending an even sharper bolt of pleasure through her. He did this over and over again until she was shaking, just on the precipice before he moved his mouth back.

She relaxed, panting as she tried to loosen her hands in his hair.

That clever tongue of his however wasn’t absent for long, trailing back down to her hole as he placed kisses to her lowermost lips. She tried not to jerk, but he’d gotten her so sensitive, yet another thing she’d never anticipated. He was just so _good_ at this, she really was kicking herself for not giving in three freaking years ago.

Without giving her pause to recover, he pressed his tongue inside of her, moaning as he did. She echoed the sound, her eyes finally squeezing shut. 

He pressed in deeper, tongue longer than she was sure it usually was, until he could press it against that spot inside of her that made her see stars. Chloe’s breath hitched yet again as he pressed hard up against it, tongue moving inside her like nothing else could. It was intoxicating and overwhelming and _perfect._

“‘M c-close.” She whined, too far gone to be embarrassed about it.

Lucifer redoubled his efforts, his thumb finding her clit as his tongue continued it’s assault on her G-spot. She couldn’t help it, her hips ground down against him as much as she could manage with one of his arms barred across her middle.

Her cries began to reach a crescendo, Lucifer helplessly panting and moaning along with her until she simply couldn’t take anymore. The band of tension in her belly snapped and she came, hard enough to make her dizzy, though she still felt Lucifer shudder as he felt her tip over. 

He went until she pushed him back, chuckling to himself as she laid limply on his bed.

Slithering up her body, he licked his lips and she noticed for the first time that he was still clothed. 

“You’re,” She drew in a breath forcibly, “Not naked.”

“I know, what a peculiar roll swap. You, naked and breathing heavy, and me still dressed all prim and proper.”

The sheen of wetness on his chin was nothing of the sort but she had learned to pick her battles over the years.

“Fix it.” She said childishly, brain still fuzzy and blissed out as she tugged on his sleeve, “I wanna touch you.”

He smiled, his expression practically screaming how precious he thought she was as he stripped faster than should have reasonably been possible. She laughed a little as he eagerly tucked himself right up next to her, reminding her that he still hadn’t been satisfied yet.

She rolled onto her side, pressing her own body against his, taking comfort in the way his skin felt on hers. She’d always been a touch needy in relationships, she knew that, so usually she tried to hold herself back from acting like it. But Lucifer never let her, offered himself and everything he could give so freely that she never needed to ask.

When their lips came together like the inevitable forgone conclusion he’d always said they were, she was actually grateful. At first, learning she’d essentially been created for him had felt like losing herself. That everything she was was just some carefully fabricated illusion made by someone she’d never even met before she was even born. Like she was locked into a role she hadn’t had any choice in playing, manipulated by strings she couldn’t see to dance to a tune she couldn’t hear. Sometimes it still did. 

But she’d realized that it was also a sort of…good? There weren’t a lot of people who could say they knew what their purpose was in life with complete certainty. And while she wasn't dramatic or romantic enough to think that he was her _only_ purpose like Eve had, it was still kind of nice to know that where she wanted to be more than anything was also exactly where she was meant to be. And it took a lot of the fear out of it. She could hardly be damned for loving the Devil if it was exactly what she was meant to do. 

“You’re thinking far too much for someone in my bed.” Lucifer interrupted her thoughts, arching an eyebrow at her, “What could possibly be distracting you?”

She shook her head, “Just happy to be here.”

He smiled, though he was also looking at her as if she was just a little odd. Ridiculous coming from someone who was still one of the weirdest beings she knew, even after the reveal.

“And I’m happy to have you, Detective.” His statement was backed up by the way his cock kicked at her hip, making his smile widen, “Very happy.”

She rolled her eyes, but nonetheless hooked her leg over his hip, pulling herself closer so that her core was pressed up against his cock. Watching his pupils dilate, the hunger grow in his eyes, was one of her favorite things, she discovered.

“Show me.”

Lucifer didn’t hesitate to pull her closer and do just that.


	4. Truth Be Told

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs Ella is listening to are Get Up by Mother Mother, Under My Skin by Jukebox Ghost, and No One To Nothing by Mother Mother for which this fic is named. Each a bop, and each a character relevant song because I'm a nerd. 
> 
> This is a Michaella heavy chapter. Michael is a giant emo baby and he needs a little sunshine.

How anyone could devine the difference between Earth and Hell with any real certainty was beyond Michael. To him they might as well have been mirrors of each other.

His Father’s most beautiful creation had been long since savaged by His worst.

He remembered when Earth had first been made, how much work it had taken to make it suitable for life. He had spent countless stretches of time, planning, orchestrating little tweaks and changes so that it could function as Father wished it to. He and Uriel especially had slaved over the Earth, being the two angels in the Host best equipped to do so. 

Uriel with his ability to trace patterns far into the future, to know exactly which ones to tug to get events to go the way Father needed them to. Odd as he was, Michael had always liked Uriel. 

But all their hard work was slowly being undone by the humans that Father had created. 

When he stared out the window of his brother’s ostentatious building, Michael could only see Earth as a prison. Not only for him, but for the humans. Everything about it that had been welcoming, the little checks and balances he’d painstakingly planned out, had been wiped away in a flood of greed and industrialization. The Earth no longer yawned, vast and open and beautiful. No it was choked with the trappings of humanity. Buildings and smoke and chemicals they’d somehow created in a place never meant to see them.

He couldn’t understand it. He’d created, yes, but under Father’s guidance. A pen wielded by the most skilled artist to create the most beautiful masterpiece. Why humans had the drive to create endlessly, seemingly without any agenda other than pleasure or destruction, he’d never understand. 

It was just one more thing about them he reviled. 

And yet he was meant to find a way to _apologize_ to them? If it wasn’t so concerning it’d be laughable.

Michael had rarely spent time in the company of humans. He had always found them disgusting, something he’d wormed into the ear of his twin before The Fall. As much as he admired Father’s work, His genius, he could never figure out why He’d made humans the way He had. 

They were so easily led astray and corrupted even by their own fears and desires. Lucifer was right about that at least, it wasn’t his fault that they were evil, no they’d chosen that themselves with the gift of free will Father had been so adamant in giving them. Or wasting on them, as was the case in Michael’s opinion.

And as if their natures weren’t enough, Father had made it so they were mortal. Which meant they grew old, and broke down, got sick, got injured and sometimes stayed that way. That at least was something familiar to him.

He couldn’t quite understand why his right side had never healed. The wound was long since gone, and every other injury he’d ever gotten had healed without a trace. Even those made with divine or infernal weapons. The only ones that ever stuck were the ones given to him by Lucifer.

If he was honest, it was a big part of why he still hated him.

Michael was a soldier, he was used to being hurt and torn at. Before everything, he had fought back creatures without names, things God had created when He was still trying to figure out exactly what He wanted to do with His universe. He’d fought monsters innumerable since humanity’s active imagination had spawned them, and gods when they forgot their place. He knew what pain was, he knew what it was to bleed, and yet nothing had ever hurt him the way Lucifer’s grasping hands had as he looked for something to hold onto to save himself from Falling.

The ache that had followed him since before time seemed to increase the more he thought about it.

Michael forced himself away from the window out to the world that felt just as broken as he was and limped over to an armchair. With a heavy sigh he dropped himself into it.

Getting lost in thoughts like that wouldn’t do him any good. He’d already thought it over millions of times, and the answer was simply that he didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot of things, which was just fine. He didn’t need to. He is, _was,_ his Father’s weapon. Weapons didn’t need to understand so neither did he.

His sigh met oppressive silence.

He really wished it weren’t so quiet.

In the Silver City there was almost always noise of some kind. The air had a resonant quality of it’s own, one single continuous note that every other sound seemed to marry itself to. When the Host would gather to hear Father’s Word, his siblings would sing as they waited. It was usually wordless, just a collection of voices all raised in matching keys and pitches around the singular note that defined the Silver City. 

Michael never thought he’d miss it. He rarely joined the choir, never really having the heart to sing when he knew the sound would fall flat without the rich echo that was meant to match it. But sitting here in this silent room, floors above the den of sin and desire his brother ran, and floors below that brother himself, he missed it more than he could bare.

 _“Aw, but you’ve missed me too, haven’t you Mikey?”_

It was annoying how easily he could imagine Lucifer’s voice in his head. He’d always been able to, it was nearly his own voice after all, just with that stupid accent Lucifer seemed hellbent on affecting.

_“Well if you were going to be such a sad sack about it, maybe you ought not to have evicted me, hm?”_

He’d had this fight. He knew he’d done what he had to. He wasn’t meant to question, to think, to _feel._ Those mistakes belonged to Lucifer. He was a good son, a good reliable weapon.

_“And where’s that gotten you Mikey? Beat up and banished just like me? We’ve never really been that different, brother mine. Two sides of the same rebellious coin. You’re just a better liar.”_

Michael squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the disembodied voice from his head.

_“And isn’t that just like you. Follow in Daddy’s footsteps, put the problem somewhere else. If you can’t see it, can’t hear it, it isn’t real right?”_

“You _aren’t_ real.” He said from between his teeth.

 _“Course not. But I’m saying exactly what he’d say too, were he here. Not even physical criticism and you still want to run. How exactly are you planning on doing what Dad told you if you can’t even handle_ this _?”_

“Shut up.”

_“You saw it right? When Dad told you to make nice. He looked at him too. You know don’t you?”_

“Shut _up.”_

_“You’re finally going to have to seek forgiveness from him. And you know just as well as I that he will never give it to you. And why should he? Your cowardice got him tortured for millions and millions of years! Well, seeing as you’re going to be stuck here forever at least he’s going to get you back at last.”_

“I SAID SHUT UP!” He shouted to the empty air.

Right. He needed… he needed to be anywhere but here in this quiet little cave that smelt like dust and the vaguest hint of Lucifer’s noxious cologne. He wasn’t sure where he was going to go, but somewhere.

He unfurled his wings, his right taking more effort than his left as always, and shot himself through the meaningless materials of the mortal world and out into the belly of LA.

Michael wished he could just fly forever, but his wing cramped up after an hour and he dropped himself none too gently into the first solid place he could find. 

A cemetery. 

Great.

It was just as quiet as his quasi cave had been, but without the ambient lighting and creature comforts. As Michael was becoming all too aware of, Earth had a habit of making celestials that spent too much time there become more mortal. A fact he failed to appreciate as a shiver ran over him when the night air crowded against his thin shirt.

He tested his wing to just to see if maybe he’d be able to just dart back to Lux, but no the damned thing spasmed when he tried to flex it. It hurt badly enough to make his knees shake, nausea rushing to greet him. 

He was going to be stuck here for a while.

“Good job Michael.” He grumbled, “This is why you don’t throw stupid fucking fits in the middle of the night, dumbass.”

He made it a little way down the little dirt path before he couldn’t drag his leg behind him anymore. 

It got like this, whenever he exerted his wing too much, his whole right side seized up along with it. If he had a limp normally, he might well have been partially paralized when he got this way. The tension was almost unbearable and no matter how hard he tried to squeeze the knots out of his muscles, they persisted. It felt like they were pulling so hard his joints were being tugged away from his bones even as his weight forced them back.

He slumped against a gravestone, groaning in resigned agony as his pulse throbbed along to the rhythmic pulse of pain through his body. What a miserable end to a miserable day.

_“Put your head on straight, put your head on now, now, now, now. Get up, get on, get out, get up fly away little birdyyyy. Ahh-oooh!”_

Michael frowned, surprised to hear the sound of someone singing this late at night. And a female most likely, by the pitch of the voice. That was weird, he knew most female humans had a fear of walking around at night. And he was pretty sure every human was at least a little afraid of walking around in a graveyard in the dark.

_“You’re so sad, you’re so gone, you’re so lost. You’re so sad, you’re so down, I wanna pick you up and put you in the clouds.”_

The voice was getting closer, curving around the corner towards him, singing in a voice too energetic for the time of night and the settling. 

Michael didn’t feel like dealing with humans on the best of days, and today was not that. He let his aura leak out around him, not enough to give her the shits, but enough that she would avoid coming any closer to him on instinct.

_“You want love, want truth, you wanna feel brand new. You wanna do it, wanna do it, do it, do it. You got dreams, you got dreams, you got dreams, you go dreams.”_

To his confusion the voice did _not_ veer away. The singing didn’t even stutter, which he wished it would because try as he might to think otherwise whatever song she was singing felt pointed. Like it was aimed at him, which given who his Father was, might not have been too far off the mark. Or it could have been miles off, there was no way to tell with Him but that didn’t stop the discomfort itching up his neck.

Maybe if he just adjusted himself a little she’d walk right on past without seeing him.

 _“Ha-oooooooo-ooh, fly away little bir-_ AH!”

Or she wouldn’t.

“Ai cabron! What the hell are you doing just sitting in a cemetery at- hey wait a second I- _Lucifer?”_

Michael could have smashed his face into the tombstone behind him. Of all the cemeteries in all of LA, of all the people in all of LA, he _would_ run into one of Lucifer’s cronies while stuck at this one. Of course he would. Because he was being punished and his Father was impatient as shit, despite having created the entire universe. He _had_ also done that in a week.

“Wrong one.” Michael groaned, slanting his face towards her to show the ugly scar stretching across his face.

It was the small, dark haired one, Ella Lopez he was pretty sure. She was the spikey one who’d smacked him with her shoe when she’d thought he was Lucifer. She looked much less welcoming now, somehow despite the lack of improvised weapon in her hands.

“Are you following me?” She asked with such icy fury that if he couldn’t feel her fear, he’d think she were angry instead.

“No.” He rolled his eyes, “I went for a walk and my leg gave up on me so I’m stuck here until it stops its bullshit. Why are _you_ here?”

She focused on his leg for a moment and curiously her eyes softened even as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Why the hell would I bother?” He made a face at her, “I’m sure Lucifer and his infinite oversharing already told you. I’m to make amends for my fuckups.”

She seemed to weigh that for a moment before deciding to believe him. To his surprise however, she also sat down in front of him.

“What are you doing?” He had the urge to back away but there was no way he’d pull off something that coordinated right now.

“We’re gonna have a chat.” She rolled up her sleeves, which was making him even more nervous.

_“About?”_

“You.” She pointed at him before gesturing nebulously to his person, “And your bullshit.”

“Super, this should be fun.”

“I’ve known Lucifer and Amenadiel for a couple years now. I get that your whole family is pretty bizzaro and everything, and that like you guys don’t really _get_ how the world works. So I’m gonna put it down real simple for you, _culo._ You do _not_ kidnap people to get back at your brother. You do _not_ take over that brother’s life while he’s gone to get back at him either. And you do _not_ take advantage of the trust those people have in him just to further your shitty revenge agenda. Make sense?”

He nodded.

“Good, there’s hope for you.” She made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a hiss.

“Debatable.” He replied on instinct.

Her cheek tucked up, dimpling at the corner as her mouth flattened into an unamused line.

“Bruh.”

“What? I know why Father chose to make me do this of all the things he could have asked from me. Because this is the one thing I cannot do.”

Ella’s hands went to her cheeks, stretching them a little as she groaned.

“First, apologizing isn’t a physical inability. You _can_ do that, and you won’t die if you do. It might not be this huge forgiveness thing you’re supposed to do or whatever, but it’s a place to start.” Her hand slipped from her face, “Second, and probably more importantly, even though I agree you should apologize and all that and stop being a dick all the time, you don’t actually _have_ to listen to your Dad. You’re your own dude, you can decide to do your own thing. And if your Dad is really this much of a problem for your family, maybe you _should_ do your own thing.”

Michael’s jaw clenched as he kept himself calm by force.

“My _Father_ is not someone you just say _no_ to. I have no desire to end up like Lucifer, so I’ll just be doing the _right_ thing.”

Ella frowned at that, showing that Lucier clearly hadn’t ever bothered to _show_ her the whole truth instead of just telling her, the damn hypocrite.

“What the hell did your dad even _do_ to you guys? I swear if I ever meet that guy, I’m gonna chuck a chancla at him on principle alone.”

Unbidden, the image of tiny Ella Lopez swinging her shoe at The Almighty popped into Michael’s head and he found himself doubling over laughing at the ridiculousness of it. 

Almost immediately his right side clenched up, the pain stealing the laughter back away from him. He choked off with a groan, trying to massage the tension from his arm and leg with his other hand.

“Are you-” She reached out toward him before stopping himself, “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Michael replied, clipped and tired, “Old injury.”

“What happened?” She asked and then seemed to catch herself, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me, I didn’t mean to ask, it was just- I-”

“It _was_ Lucifer, if that’s what you were wondering.” He cut her off, “He’s the one that injured me.”

She reeled back for a moment, her eyes looking him up and down again, taking in the scope of the damage on his right side. 

“Lucifer- did this? Were you- were you trying to hurt him?”

He hated how hopeful she sounded. Like she wanted a reason not to see him as the monster he was.

“If I said no would you even believe me?” He cocked his head.

“No.”

“Well, you’re right.” He stared down at his feet, “Doesn’t mean I wanted to though. He knew I didn’t want to, he didn’t have to hurt me this badly.”

He hated the whine in his voice. He’d always hated that, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get rid of it. Not unless he was imitating his idiot twin.

Ella breathed a long slow breath, reminding him she was even there.

“Oh Jeez there’s a lot to unpack there. And it seems pretty bad, so I’m gonna leave that to _hopefully_ Linda. Just-” She gave another, shakier sigh, “You made about as bad a first impression as ya can, and I’m still pretty on the fence about you, and honestly I’m still pretty damn mad about what you did to Chloe and Lucifer, and like Maze too and Dan I think.”

“You got a point in there, Lopez?”

“I’m trying to say that I hope you do it! The forgiveness thing! First cause it’d be cool if I didn’t have to hate you, cause I’m really bad at that, but I think _you’d_ feel better. Clearly you and Lucifer have a lot of beef, but beneath that I think you feel bad about whatever happened with you guys. I think you _want_ his forgiveness, so I think you should try to get it. I mean, what else do you have to do?”

His head was a bee’s nest of competing emotions as her words rattled around in his head. 

Everything in him that was still hurt, still raw even after all this time, wanted to reel back and hiss until she ran away screaming. But the part of him that was his Father’s best, most obedient son, as he tried so hard to be, knew that if he was going to actually do what Dad was asking him, he was going to have to accept this. Michael had spent eons running from that simple truth, so to be faced with it so openly, so brazenly by a little mortal _gnat_ was so jarring that he couldn’t seem to decide on one single action.

She shocked him out of his little trance by once again doing the last thing he would have expected. 

The touch to his hand was light, hardly even there, not even platonic in it’s lack of contact

Yet, Michael was embarrassed to find that his heart began beating faster. Ridiculous as it was, this was also the first time someone had voluntarily reached out to touch _him_ in longer than he cared to remember.

“If I go home, will you?” She asked, not exactly with care but concern which was still more than Michael was expecting.

He tested his leg the more subtly his wing. The pain had lessened but still not quite enough to make it all the way back. He wasn’t even sure how far he’d gone, fucking idiot, he hadn’t been paying any kind of attention. 

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a minute.” He lied. “Go on ahead.”

Her eyes narrowed into sharp slits, which was all the more unnerving considering how wide they normally were.

“Is lying just your natural response or something, man?”

How had she even-

“If you wanted me to leave you could have just- you know what, no. You’re not my business anyway, and I’ve got my own crap to deal with right now. Have a nice night Mike.”

With that she turned on her heel and all but stomped away, muttering colorful Spanish expletives under her breath as she went. Michael had no idea what any of them meant, but he could gather the gist well enough.

Michael sat for a moment, the new silence buzzing in his ears before he let out a long, low groan of frustration that pitched up into a shout.

How did he always manage to _do_ that?! He always made the wrong decision for any social situation! _Always!_ He was the mind behind half the design of the fucking universe, _how_ could he _possibly_ be so fucking bad at talking to people! It was ridiculous! _Beyond_ ridiculous!

To the best of his knowledge that was when people were _supposed_ to lie! White lies and all that bullshit. He was saving her the trouble of having to sit there and wait until his crippled ass could get it together out of societal obligation! Did humans change their stance on that at some point that he wasn’t aware of? Probably, the fickle little bastards.

He was just about to throw himself into another round of mental boxing when the sound of footsteps met his ears again. 

It had to have been Ella again, which made even less sense, but who else would really be out here this late? 

He didn’t have the patience for this shit, he was just going to owe her an extra apology later.

Michael breathed out, relaxing his control over his power more than the last time, letting the air come to itch with fear. It was always a relief to let go, let it go bother someone else for a change. 

“Mike? You still here?” Ella’s voice called.

He frowned at how level it was. She was less than four feet away from him, she should be sprinting towards her car.

“Yeah?” He replied, his confusion making it a question.

She plodded over toward him, seemingly heedless of the mire of terror encircling him like a black cloud. Curiosity compelled him to try turning it up even higher, enough that the birds began fleeing from the trees, the insects in the ground writhed and anyone living nearby would likely begin having the worst nightmares they’ve ever had.

She sat down across from him, looking embarrassed.

What in the _fuck?_

“So when I was walking back to the car, it occurred to me that that might have been a little harsh.”

He could barely hear what she was saying, to focused on the wordless confusion churning like fog inside of his head.

“I don’t like to being lied to, Michael. Not even on little things, not after- not after _everything_ that’s happened lately. I know that’s probably how you’ve had to be to survive whatever kind of life you were living before you got here, but you’re not there anymore, okay?” 

She made eye contact with him, her dark eyes firm but unhindered by anything, and certainly not afraid. If anything she just looked….tired. He’d not been paying her much attention before, actually he was actively trying to ignore her as much as he could, but now that he was she looked exhausted.

And like she was waiting for him to answer her, fuck what did she just say?

“I-” His mouth was dry and he swallowed to try to fix that but all it did was choke him and oh Dad why was he like this.

Her hands hovered over him for a moment before she seemed to decide on patting his back lightly.

It didn’t help. In fact, in a twist of fate that would have been surprising had Michael been anyone else, the pressure right between his shoulders bid his wings to unfurl.

Michael would have retracted them immediately, or at the very least been attempting to explain, but the pain of his right wing unfurling so suddenly hit him like a wall. 

For a moment his vision blacked out and all he could hear was a high pitched ringing in his ears. He couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not, but it didn’t feel like he was.

The moment lasted for much longer than he would have liked, and when he came to, he was more or less laid across the ground in a heap. It took a moment for his hearing to come back to him while his vision straightened itself up. But as soon as it did he tuned into what was likely an unbroken string of panicked babbling.

“-can’t have killed you I didn’t even touch you very hard and you’re an _angel_ apparently, holy fuck I killed an angel what the f- I shouldn’t be cussing, I shouldn’t be cussing, oh my- oh that’s, _fuck,_ shit that’s a cuss word- I-”

“Ella,” He croaked, throat still dry but not enough to choke him again thank fuck for the little things.

“YOU’RE ALIVE!” She squeaked, immediately rushing into his field of view though very distinctly not touching him this time.

“Of course I’m alive, there’s literally no way for you to kill me. Especially by accident.” He grumbled.

“But I _hurt_ you-”

“No, you didn’t.” He nodded over to his beat up wing, “That’s what hurt me. You just made me open them. Somehow.”

“ _I_ made you open them?” She breathed, her eyes filling once again with so many questions he was already ruling ‘sleeping’ out for possible ends to his night, “I-I’m sorry.”

He frowned, thrown off kilter yet again. 

“How can I help? _Can_ I help? I don’t know how this works dude. _Holy mother of shit_ twins _, oh fuck Lucifer actually_ is _the Devil?!”_ She gasped before covering her mouth with one hand, giggling a little hysterically into it, “Sorry, sorry, I’m good.”

“You’re allowed to freak out.” He replied, “I don’t need any help. It’s just gonna be a minute before I can put them away, so go ahead and let it all out.”

“Is it weird that I’m kind of really happy?” She blurted.

“You’re sitting next to literal divinity, it’d be weirder if you weren’t.” 

She cocked her head, prompting him to explain.

“My wings, they’re basically made out of Heaven’s energy, and therefore they’re divine. Divinity makes humans feel this nice, happy feeling or whatever. Even mine.”

Ella accepted the knowledge with a nod and another slightly hysterical laugh, though she tamped this one down quicker.

“I mean that makes sense. I’m sure later I’ll actually start freaking out, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna smack Lucifer for not _telling me,_ telling me. Can I even do that? I mean I’ve smacked him before and it was fine, I don’t think he’s gonna suddenly try to eat me or something. _Oh no I threatened to hit God with my shoe._ Is _that_ why you laughed?!”

“What?” 

She was hard to keep up with normally, but revelation speed was never easy to interpret from the outside anyway. Michael had had his fair share of talks like this with freaked out humans, but he was never good with this stage.

“Earlier! When I threatened to smack your Dad!” She covered her face with her hands once again.

“Yeah,” He answered with a little smile at the memory, “That was pretty funny to imagine.”

“That’s blasphemous!” She fell onto her side next to him before shooting up as if she’d just remembered where she was, “As an archangel shouldn’t you be more concerned about that?”

Michael rolled his eyes, “Just means I’ve got bigger wings and more shit to worry about. If you’ve got a problem with Dad that’s between you and Him.”

Ella’s eyes became vacant for a moment, as if she were staring out into the future instead of the here and now. Michael was tempted to wave a hand in her face just to see if she’d notice.

“What-” She breathed in slow and deep as a million and one things raced behind her eyes, “What if I _did_ have a problem with Him? I mean knowing He’s real changes things like a _lot_ but it kind of makes it _worse?”_

“Yeah,” Michael nodded, “It usually does.”

“I just _don’t_ understand.” She groaned with such weight and grief that Michael felt it in his own chest, after all it was nearly the same grief his own soul carried, “I know I’m not supposed to, but _still._ How can he just _do_ this to us? To _any_ of us? He’s supposed to be a loving Father but knowing what I know about Lucifer, about you, what I’ve _seen_ as a _person?_ How am I supposed to believe that?”

On his darkest nights, the ones where he ached so badly from everything he’d lost, everything that had ever been done to him, he wondered that too. How could his Father love him if he was only a tool, a weapon, a servant? Those things could be appreciated, but they were not loved.

“I don’t know.” He said honestly, the words making his chest feel lighter as he said them, “I’ve wondered that time and time again throughout the ages. I love my Father, just as fiercely as I was made to, but for the life of me I don’t understand Him. I don’t think that I ever will, and I will live very much longer than you.”

Ella swallowed hard but it didn’t keep the tears from her cheeks. She was shaking, though her expression was not as hopeless as he would have imagined, hearing something so disparaging from an angel of the Lord. She was a lot stronger than he’d thought.

“That’s pretty shitty, I’m not gonna lie. But it’s also kind of freeing, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t, _what?”_

“If God doesn’t care about us, we don’t really have to care about Him either.” She shrugged, “Like any other crappy parent.”

Michael went through a spectrum of emotion, his third for the night, dear fuck this girl was so much to keep up with.

“Except you can’t really _get away_ from God. The fuck your opinion thing only works if that parent can’t hunt you down and torture you for all eternity if you refuse to listen to them. Don’t know if you forgot, but Dad’s pretty big on that. You’re friends with the most famous example of Dad’s wrath.”

Ella paled, taking another breath and bracing her hands on her hips.

“You’re riiiight.” She frowned, “But that’s- you could survive that.”

Michael’s eyebrows made for his hairline.

“No, no, don’t bug out on me. It’s still applicable. Even _if_ the big guy chose to throw you into hell for living your own life the way you want to without Him, you’d survive. You would change, and the experience would be miserable, but you would survive. And you’d have your freedom on the other side. You might be an angel but you still have free will.”

Michael could feel that curdled feeling rising up in his stomach again, racing against his pounding pulse to see which one could make him get sick first. 

It was a test, it had to be. This was the third time since he’d gotten to this damn place that something had tried to tempt him with the idea of falling. It had to be Dad trying to see if he would continue to toe the line even stuck as he was, with no reason to. 

It was like dangling a steak in front of a starving creature locked in a cage. If he took the bait he’d eat, but he’d be beaten for it. But if he didn’t he continue to starve and mourn what he could have if only he weren’t a fucking beaten down old coward.

With all that had happened to him in the last few days, let alone the last few hours, he couldn’t take it. 

A tear trailed down his cheek as he let his hand dig into his bad wing, letting the pain sober him before he acted.

“I am a _good_ son.” He said, his voice hollow even to his own ears, “And I will do what I am asked, regardless of what it is or what it costs me. That is what I was created for and that is what I will continue to do.”

He felt as though he’d cut something from himself, some part of him wounded and bleeding far out of his reach. He wanted to break down and cry, it ached, he was so _tired_ of hurting, but he wouldn’t. No one needed him to mourn.

“Oh Michael,” Her voice was tight and when his eyes met hers they were glossy with tears, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, the motion jerky but he refused to think about it.

“There’s nothing for you to feel sorry for.” He sounds like he’s been crying and he forces his voice to even out, “Unlike me. I’m sorry for having kept you so late. You can go home now, I’ll leave when I’m able.”

She shook her head, sitting up straighter, “No.”

“No?”

“No.” She crossed her arms, “What just happened was not a _good_ thing dude. I’ve seen cult victims do that, it’s a pretty extreme trauma response. I’m not just gonna leave you here to rip yourself apart.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Yes you were.” She cut in, “You were going to spend the next hour self flagellating for coming even within a few inches of doing something you have been conditioned very strongly not to do.” 

Michael did not care for how correct she was, nor that she felt the need to stop him.

“So instead of that, we’re gonna listen to music.” She said, digging around in her pockets, “Normally I’d advocate talking, but that seems like a little much right now, so we’re just gonna vibe instead.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Well you can’t move, and I’m not going anywhere so I don’t think you really can.”

Michael still had yet to put away his wings. Or his fear aura-shit he’d forgotten about that, he took a moment to pull that back into the little “box” he kept it inside of-and yet she was still so bold.

“I don’t need to move to smite you.” He let his eyes flicker gold.

She started for a moment before making a face at him.

“You’re not going to smite me, you’re supposed to be earning my forgiveness. Don’t be an ass.” She smacked his good side lightly.

“You are such a _pain_ in my ass Lopez.” He huffed as she fiddled with the device in her hands, “Perceptive little gnat.”

“Here.” She handed him a white, slightly curved object about the size of his thumb, “Put this in your ear.”

He made a face but complied. Although, he did it wrong, of course and she opted to simply put it in for him. Michael wished she would stop touching him like it wasn’t a big deal, he was going to have an _actual_ nervous breakdown.

The little speaker began playing a song he wasn’t familiar with. Though Michael wasn’t familiar with a lot of music since he rarely paid much attention to the mortal world. The last time he’d noticed what their music sounded like was… 1982? Somewhere around there.

The tune Ella had selected was a jaunty thing, the rhythm inconsistent but somehow that made a rhythm of its own. It was odd, but very harmonic and Michael found himself enjoying it.

_“Oh no, not a chance in hell, yeah, I've heard you sing but it ain't too well. Heartmelt, yeah you meant so well. But your song's no good 'round here.”_

The song continued until it petered out into something else, with a less remarkable tune and Ella started messing around with her device to change it.

“Why were you out here, Lopez?” Michael asked after they had sat in silence for a moment.

For a moment he thought she might not answer him, focusing her attention solely on her music device.

“I used to come here with my Church to volunteer. We cleaned the graves since a lot of these graves have been here so long no one even remembers who they belonged to. It’s- there’s a lot going on right now, and I didn’t want to be at home, but I also didn’t want to be anywhere I’m normally at. It’s quiet out here and I just wanted to forget about everything for a while.”

“So you came here to clean graves?” Michael frowned, “At one on the morning?”

“It’s soothing! Cleaning gives me something to focus on, and I it was only ten when I got here! I just… can’t really sleep.”

Michael might not have been able to exert his influence on her for whatever reason, but he could still taste her fears just fine. Her’s was fresh and sickly sweet like a small, hot room full of flowers. He could feel the ghost of hands around his throat.

“Give me your hand.” 

She did nothing of the sort, staring at him like he’d grown a second head instead.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Lopez.” He rolled his eyes, “Give me your hand.”

Hesitantly, like someone reaching into a bear trap, she reached her hand out to him. Michael forced himself to stay focused as he took her hand in his. With his other hand he none too gently plucked a feather from his uninjured wing and laid it across her palm.

“Put this under your pillow before you sleep and you won’t have a problem sleeping. Since it’s mine it’ll drink up any nightmare you might have.” He retracted his hands from hers, immediately missing the comfort of it.

Her eyes bugged even wider for a moment as she looked frantically in between his feather and his face. 

“I- thank you!” She chirped, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, but you also didn’t have to stay here with me for so long, listening to all my bullshit. Consider it a thank you.”

She nodded, tucking the feather reverently into her jacket’s inner pocket. Michael nearly smiled, he’d never seen someone be so awed over one of his feathers. They were dark as the void, and matte black unlike Lucifer’s glorious pearlescent white. He’d always thought they were fairly dull.

“Can I ask what you mean by ‘because it’s mine’. You said something like that earlier.”

“Hmm? Oh, my gift will influence the feather for a little while. It goes away eventually.”

“Oh! Like Lucifer’s desire thing? That’s a gift from G- the big guy?”

Michael nodded, “Yeah, they’re _called_ gifts. I suppose in Lucifer’s case his actually _is_ a gift. Desire is fun, makes people like him, makes it easy to bat his eyes and make everyone forget how much of a pain in the ass he can be. I got saddled with Fear.”

“The angel of fear?” She nodded, then pouted her lip out, “You’re pretty nonthreatening for the angel of fear.”

“That’s because there’s something up with you.” Michael said before he thought to stop himself.

“What?”

Well fuck now he _had_ to explain.

“I don’t know why but apparently my fear aura doesn’t _bother you._ When you came back I was projecting such a strong ‘fuck off’ vibe you should have pissed yourself trying to get away from me. You didn’t even notice.”

"Oh." She nodded, seeming to take the latest oddity better than he was, "Like Chloe with Lucifer."

"I- yeah." He sunk under the weight of the implication, "Like that."

Ella it seemed came to a similar conclusion. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, long enough for Ella to decide to go back to her music machine.

_"I woke up today, and I thought, that I'm not what I thought I woulda been dot, I'm a little dot, in a cosmic spray."_

Michael didn't look over at her as the lyrics to the relatively slow song rolled over him. He knew he wouldn't find her looking back at him anyway. That was probably for the best, today had been unbearably long.

_"Blue, yellow and rust, pixie dust. I am an abstraction, burning with the sun I am no one."_

He let himself recline against the ground, too tired to hold himself up any more. It would make it easier to get his strength back if he stopped fighting it. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the wide, dark abyss the light pollution of LA reduced the sky to.

_"Losing my mind, I've never felt so good to be alive. Crucify my name, I've never felt more famous than the day when I am no one, to nothing."_


	5. Illusionary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to a lot of my friends from the Mi-Clowns discord server, you guys have helped me grow this story a lot! I hope you'll enjoy where it leads~

Lucifer’s favorite way to wake up used to be buried in women and men, with only vague memories of the night before. He still wouldn’t really be _opposed_ to that, but he’d definitely found a new favorite.

The sun was such a gentle warmth on the small of his back, it’s light suffused by the gossamer curtains that hung across his windows. Tucked up against his side was his Detective, her not raucous snores meeting the air like the purr of a chainsaw. He loved it, that such a beautiful, delicate looking woman could be so  _ butch  _ in her sleeping habits. It never failed to make him smile.

“Detective,” He murmured amorously, “It’s about time for us to be getting ready, don’t you think darling?”

She groaned, pushing against him even as she folded herself impossibly closer, muttering something that might have been words.

He chuckled, skimming his fingers lightly over her ticklish sides just enough to make her wriggle.

_ “Lucifer.”  _ She whined in a clear bid to make him stop, “Noooooo.”

That got a full laugh out of him, though he didn’t stop. He was right in that they needed to get ready for the day, though he probably could have thought up a better way to wake her.

Oh well.

“Alright, alright I’m up! Stoooo-ha-ooop!” She giggled, kicking ineffectually at him as he finally relented, “You are the worst.”

“I  _ am  _ the Devil, love.” He grinned at her, not in the least bit cowed by the pouting glare she was aiming at him.

“That has nothing to do with it.” She stuck her tongue out, tucking it away before he could decide to take the opportunity to kiss it. 

“Doesn’t it though?” He cocked his head, “Think I’d be this much trouble if I weren’t?”

“Yes.”

The lack of hesitation! Just for that he pushed until she nearly toppled out of the bed.

“See!” She grabbed onto his arm, smiling nonetheless.

“Still the Devil darling!”

They got dressed relatively quickly after that. Well, quickly for Lucifer who was used to spending two hours or more getting ready. He was proud of himself for only stopping them for one quickie before they were all done up and ready for the day.

And if the Detective were just a little more relaxed than usual? Well she’d earned it hadn’t she?

The walk to the car was filled with companionable banter, which of course should have been Lucifer’s first clue that something was to go wrong.

“Lucifer!” A voice rang out from behind them, a distinctly unfamiliar one.

The duo turned to find a man standing in the middle of the garage, looking for all the world like he belonged there despite it being private. Though when had that ever really stopped anyone? 

He was dressed well, if a tad dramatically for eight in the morning, though Lucifer could appreciate a good outfit even as he struggled to understand what he was doing there. In all honesty, with the long jacket and tight leather crop top, and the bleached out blonde hair, he looked like a member of a Korean boy band. But the smile on his face, the way he held himself was too comfortably arrogant. Lucifer could spot trouble a mile away, and this kid  _ reeked _ of it.

How interesting.

_ “Hello,” _ He said with all of his usual charisma and panache, “If you want a favor, you’ll have to come back during business hours.”

The kid tilted his head, expression wicked and wild and exactly what Lucifer would have called a good time only a few years ago.

“I’m not here for a favor. At least not one for  _ me. _ I’m here to help  _ you.”  _ He took a step forward, “It took me a while to find you here, you’re not as loud as I’d thought you’d be.”

Instinctively Lucifer put himself between the Detective and the newcomer. He didn’t know what he was looking at necessarily, but he was almost certain it wasn’t human. He couldn’t risk the Detective being in danger.

“Oh? And I do so hate to disappoint. Have we met before by chance?”

“Hmm, no. Not technically at least.” He shrugged, “But I don’t think it really makes that much difference for people like us.”

_“Right._ Detective, maybe you should go on ahead and I’ll catch up to you.”

“Lucifer I-”

He watched the guy’s attention slide to the Detective and it made his skin prickle with tension. There was something predatory in his stare, and Lucifer did not need any more people or beings otherwise getting it in their heads that the way to him was through her.

“Please?” He asked her, trying to communicate with his eyes how much he desperately needed her out of danger.

“We’re partners Lucifer. I’m not going anywhere.” She said, her bright eyes steady, grounding despite being almost the color of the sky.

He loved her fiercely for this kind of devotion, though at the same time it set his teeth on edge. He’d known her more than long enough that she wouldn’t leave, no matter what he said. So it would be best to just get this over with as quickly and easily as possible.

“So, what’s ya name?” Lucifer folded his fingers together, “You obviously think you know me, so let’s make it even, yeah?”

The boy/man/being grinned again, and this time his own eyes flared a violent other-wordly red that wasn’t too far from his own. He felt Chloe shiver beside him though she shifted her stance a bit wider, her hand going to the gun on her hip.

“Name’s Seven.” He replied cordially enough, “I’m one of your’s.”

“Mine?” Lucifer touched a hand to his chest, offended even as Chloe turned a flat stare on him, “Surely you don’t mean as in a child! I’d never have children, I detest them!”

“I mean I wouldn’t call you my _father.”_ Seven shrugged, “More like, magical sugar daddy.”

“Oohoo, because that’s better.” Chloe tossed in, unamused. 

Ugh it was too damn early for this. 

“And what does  _ that  _ entail, exactly?” Lucifer asked impatiently. 

“Well, I’m not human for starters. Not anymore.” Seven tilted his head this way and that, “I’m a star with its own consciousness, a star  _ you  _ created with a hollow core. My soul got sucked into it on it’s way to Hell. You called us ‘witches’.”

For a moment Lucifer only stood there, suddenly understanding why humans reacted the way they did when he told them the unfiltered truth. 

He was stunned as he tried to think of the possibility of such a thing, the ramifications of it. He didn’t think he could make something like that, not anymore. And even if he could, diverting souls from Hell? There was no way Dad would just let him get away with that. And there was no way he'd try! The souls in Hell belonged there. What could possibly possess him to give them a... loophole?

“And why would anyone- why would  _ I  _ create such a thing?”

Seven’s smile which had been unnerving before grew into something truly disquieting as that haunting red light began to glow from behind his eyes with an almost tangible warmth.

“To take down Heaven of course.” He answered, easy as anything, “We’re your army against the angels.”

Lucifer felt as though someone had punted the air from his lungs.

In all his long, long life, as angry as he’d ever been at his Father, and his siblings and even Mom, he’d never  _ once  _ wanted to destroy them. Rebel? Absolutely, but he only wanted his freedom. Never... this. 

“We finished with Heaven in my universe and without angels to kill, I got bored and decided to see how many I could take out somewhere else. I came alone, but I made sure the rest of us are on standby in case you want-”

“Stop!” Lucifer roared, hellfire sparking to life in his eyes, “You will do  _ nothing  _ of the sort. In fact, you will go back to the place you came from and never return here.”

Seven's eyes widened but he didn’t back down as Lucifer hoped, in fact he only leaned in closer, his head cocking while that smile remained in place.

“You’re _different_ than my Lucifer.” He assessed, “Weird. Wonder why that is.”

His eyes darted over to Chloe almost imperceptibly. Almost.

Lucifer leaned into Seven’s face, a snarl lacing up his spine, “Run along, witch.”

At last Seven leaned back, his hip cocking out as a giggle bubbled up out of him.

“ _ Ha _ , ya know, I don’t think I will.” He replied easily, “See,  _ my  _ Lucifer scared me which is why I listened to him in the first place. You? You don’t _scare_ me.”

Lucifer summoned his Devil face, blasting hellfire from the edges of his mouth as fury took him. How dare this insolent little _child_ speak to him that way! 

_ “Excuse me?!” _

Seven shivered but the smile didn’t leave his face. If anything the bastard looked more amused.

“That’s cute.” Seven nodded, “But you’re barking at me. If you meant any of that I’d have been in the ground three minutes ago.”

That was a good suggestion, actually. 

Lucifer took a swing, but rather than hitting something solid, his hand connected with what essentially felt like pudding. As he pulled his hand back Seven reformed easily as if nothing had happened.

“I can’t believe you fell for that! That’s not even one of my  _ good  _ tricks!” He cackled, his eyes tearing up a little with merth, “You know, I  _ bet _ I could take this version of you.”

All at once the teasing air he’d had since he’d appeared dried up and left in it’s place was an alarming amount of single minded focus. He reminded Lucifer of Maze, before they left Hell for good. Beautiful and vicious and without a single ounce of mercy.

“Yeah, you know what I think that sounds like _fun_ actually.” He licked his teeth, “I mean, _technically_ **_you’re_** an angel too.”

“If you value your life you won’t try it.” Lucifer snarled, the sound rattling the walls.

He sensed Chloe move a little closer to him, to his surprise, until he was more or less touching his arm.

“I don’t.” Seven replied, another giggle breaking from his lips, “Not that I think _this_ you could kill me anyway. Only one way to do that and from the look of you, you don’t have the stones.” 

He plucked at the sleeve of Lucifer’s shirt and that was the final straw. Lucifer lashed out with one wing, knocking the witch several feet backwards and nearly into a wall had he not dissipated into thin air like so much smoke. 

_ “Catch ya later boss!”  _ His voice rang out, though Lucifer couldn’t be sure from where even as he glanced wildly around the room.

He and the Detective waited for a long moment before flagging. 

“What the  _ hell  _ was that?” The Detective asked, her eyes cutting up to Lucifer.

“I’m afraid I’m as lost as you are, darling.” Lucifer straightened his jacket, frowning, “I’ve never seen anything like that, and I  _ certainly  _ didn’t create it. Not in this timeline at least.”

“Please do not tell me what you mean by that.” Chloe raised her hand tiredly, “Not until we’ve had coffee at least.”

“Yes, yes, darling you’re quite right. This is hardly something to try to contemplate before breakfast.” Lucifer agreed easily, leading her toward her car.

That hadn’t exactly been the way he’d wanted to begin his morning either.

“Thank you so much for coming, Michael.” Doctor Linda Martin greeted as she opened her door.

“Not that I have much choice.” Michael muttered, limping into the office. 

“You always have a choice, Michael. If you don’t want to be here, please feel free to turn around and leave.” Linda poised herself gracefully on her chair, ankles crossed, the picture of professionalism, “I won’t force you to be here.”

“But you  _ will  _ tell Lucifer, which means I  _ have  _ to be here.” Appreciatively, Michael let himself flop down into the surprisingly comfortable couch across from her.

“Anything that happens in our sessions is just between you and I. If you want to leave, I won’t say a thing.” She shook her head slowly, golden blonde curls swaying gently.

“Well I’m already sat down now, so begin,” He gestured in a vague upward motion, “Therapizing.” 

A soft laugh broke her otherwise perfect façade, “That’s not- you know never mind. The way this works is you talk to me about whatever is bothering you and together we work you towards either making peace with whatever it is, or resolving it.”

Michael frowned, “That’s it? Lucifer spoke as if you were a miracle cure. But it’s just talking?”

“Lucifer is, and has always been, very confused about what therapy actually entails. I appreciate his praise, but the progress he’s made is all on him, I have very little to do with it.”

He let his head fall back as disappointment set in. Of course that would be it, wouldn’t it? 

“Something about that bothers you. Would you mind telling me why?”

He laughed once, bitterly, “You can’t tell?”

“Not unless you tell me, Michael.”

For a moment he sat silently, unwilling to say what he new was ultimately a petty concern that was obviously beneath him to entertain. Yet the longer he sat there, the more it festered beneath his skin until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Because I’m sick of him always being so  _ good  _ at things! No matter what it is, he’s the best. It’s like everything is just  _ easy  _ for him,  _ everything  _ comes naturally. It’s his blessing as the favorite.”

“Well therapy isn’t really something you can  _ win _ at. So there’s no way for him to be the best, at this.” She clicked her pen, “But that’s a good place to start. It seems like you two have been made to compete quite a lot. I’m sure that wasn’t easy on you, or your relationship.”

A scoff tore from him, unbidden, “We  _ didn’t _ compete. That’s the most pathetic part. We worked together, in  _ perfect harmony _ , for  _ eons.  _ We were  _ made  _ to be together. And yet, he’s still somehow  _ better _ . We were supposed to be  _ equals _ . That’s how Dad made us, or that’s what He told us. Yet no matter what Samael does, no matter how badly he screws up, Dad just… doesn’t care.”

“I wouldn’t say casting him into Hell for eternity constitutes Him not caring.” Linda hedged.

“Trust me, that was the  _ least  _ He could have done after all of the carnage the rebellion caused.” Michael muttered, the memories still far more vivid than he cared for, “Scores of our siblings  _ died  _ for that, dozens of others Fell with Lucifer.”

“You don’t sound  _ angry  _ though.” She needled, “It sounds like you feel... guilty.”

Michael’s hands clenched on the arms of the couch, hard enough to make it creak.

_ “I do not.  _ Why would I? It’s not as though it was  _ my  _ fault.”

Linda’s head tilted and he had the worst feeling that she  _ knew.  _ Her eyes were so sharp, like they were filleting him open and seeing the truth he’d spent so long hiding. How a mortal could have such a knowing stare, he wasn’t sure but he knew that he hated it. It reminded him far too much of his Father.

“Even still, you  _ do  _ feel guilty over something. And it’s very much hindering you still.” She gestured to his right side.

Michael bristled at that, a hiss sliding from between his teeth.

“What are you implying? That I did this to  _ myself?  _ Out of  _ guilt  _ for something that wasn’t even  _ my fault?! Samael  _ did this to me in a pathetic bid to keep himself from falling into Hell where he  _ belonged!” _

To her credit Linda didn’t even flinch as he began to yell. He was certain his eyes had to have been gold by now, his aura flitting around the room. 

“Have either of your brothers told you what they learned about angelic self actualization?”

That was the last thing he had expected her to say.

“What?”

Linda nodded, “Of course they didn’t. Amenadiel figured it out first, but it’s been pretty well proven by both of them. Angels self actualize, meaning whatever you believe about yourself, or whatever you believe you deserve, your body makes real.”

Michael leap frogged from violent disbelief straight into horrified consideration, as he tried to think his way around what she was telling him. He didn’t want it to be true, because that would mean that he really  _ did  _ care. 

He spent  _ so long  _ denying his own feelings, out of obligation and the simple desire not to deal with their implications, that he’d nearly convinced himself it was true. That he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for what he’d done, what it had caused, and how much he had lost because of his own childish arrogance. 

Well, at least he thought so before he came  _ here. _

Since he’d left the Silver City his right side had been bothering him terribly. He’d thought it was from exertion, or the slow drag of vague mortality that had settled over him after his Father’s sentence. But when he thought about it, it only really started bothering him when he was thinking about Lucifer.

Hollow acceptance settled into his chest. It made sense, in the worst kind of way. The only wounds that had never healed, the same way he’d never truly healed after losing such an intrinsic part of himself.

He sighed, long and heavy, the set of his shoulders slumping painfully.

“The truth, the  _ real  _ truth, is-” He shuddered, forcing the emotion down his throat because if he didn’t say it now he never would, “It  _ was  _ my fault. The rebellion? My idea. Lucifer put it into action, like he always did. That’s how we were designed. I’m the inspiration, he’s the action. I  _ knew  _ he’d do it, he  _ always  _ does it. I was going to go through with it with him but I- I  _ couldn’t.” _

It burned to say, to think even, but he’d started and he couldn’t stop. After so long, he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Then Dad told  _ me  _ to do it. I- I thought I’d misheard him, but I was already moving and I knew it had to be me because no one else  _ could. _ I’m his equal, and he was- so many of our siblings were  _ dying _ and I couldn’t just- I’m a  _ protector,  _ I couldn’t just let it happen. It was never supposed to  _ be  _ like that. We were only supposed to stand up to Him, refuse to keep being  _ tools.  _ I didn’t think he was going to- I didn’t want to- I  _ didn’t fucking want to _ .”

He was curled in on himself, a habit he’d tried so hard to break and nearly had, apart from moments like this.

“You know, e-even through all the years, through all the  _ shit _ , I still cared about him. I  _ loved  _ him like I loved myself and casting him down tore away a part of me along with him. A part that I have  _ never  _ gotten back. But do you know what the worst part, the absolute  _ worst  _ part is? Because it isn’t the chronic pain, or the impaired movement, or hell even feeling like the shitty half of a broken sword.... It’s… it’s... how  _ badly  _ I wanted to Fall with him.”

By the time he finished speaking he was all but whispering. 

His heart raced as he waited for the ceiling to split open, for the ground to crack open and swallow him whole. Because surely, admitting that he, an archangel wanted nothing more than to fall like his brother before him had to have some kind of consequences.

But nothing happened. The cosmos didn’t rip itself apart to throw him into Hell, he didn’t get unmade. Nothing. Actually, no, something  _ did  _ happen.

The ache in his shoulder lessened significantly.

“That-” Linda breathed in as what he’d said washed over her, “That was quite a lot to share for one session. Are you alright? How do you feel?”

“...Better.” He breathed, “ _ Tired.”  _

“Bringing up emotions that powerful and old can be extremely exhausting.” Linda agreed with a nod, “How about we stop here for this one?”

Michael nodded, happy to not have to talk anymore.

“Would you like a cup of tea, water bottle, maybe a little whiskey?” Linda asked, getting to her feet and rounding her desk.

Michael was surprised by the offer, already trying to gather the mental will power to make himself get up from her comfortable couch. 

“I, uh, t-tea would be good.” He muttered, mentally smacking himself for the stutter.

“Earl Grey alright? I don’t keep a whole lot of variety in here. Maybe I should though, I like Jasmine too.” She said more or less to herself.

“Yeah, that’s, uh, fine.” He frowned, “I’m confused though, aren’t you on Lucifer’s side?”

“Side?” She turned back to him as she flicked her little kettle on, “I’m Lucifer’s friend, yes, but I don’t see this as something with ‘sides’ to be on. We’re allowed to be friendly too, Michael.”

“Even after what I’ve done?” He hated how raw his voice sounded.

“Yes.” She said softly, with a gravity that made it clear she didn’t take her words lightly, “I’m not thrilled about how this all started, but if there’s anything I’ve learned about you guys, it’s that you have a flare for the dramatic. It’s hard to understand how your actions affect things,  _ people,  _ you don’t feel connected to. Upgrade that to celestial levels and your behavior suddenly makes sense.”

She turned and began fiddling with their mugs, “But understanding is different than condoning. I don’t  _ like _ what you did, please don’t misunderstand. I am  _ livid  _ at the thought that you would use my son as a tool, whether you caused his illness or not. So let me make it very clear, if you ever try anything like that again, I will drop all communication with you, professionally or otherwise.”

Her voice was absolute, a cold steeliness to it that Michael was certain she would have stood behind in an instant if he pushed her. The threat was minimal, he didn’t  _ need  _ her, but the balls it took to threaten an archangel in  _ any  _ capacity had him impressed. It explained why she was able to weather all the shit being close to Lucifer had doubtlessly flung her way.

“That being said,” She turned around with two mugs on a tray along with a sugar jar, walking over to take her seat, “I believe people, and  _ angels  _ can change. But in order to do that, you need a support system.”

She sat down primly and handed him a mug with ‘Chin up Buttercup’ inscribed on it in a dramatic yet somehow still drab script.

“So, what’s your take on Socrates?” 


End file.
